tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385816334913227032018-12-18T04:33:11.524-05:00Autistic Hoya"The trouble is that once you see it, you can't unsee it. And once you've seen it, keeping quiet, saying nothing, becomes as political an act as speaking out. There is no innocence. Either way, you're accountable."
— Arundhati RoyLydia Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13484063914873791571noreply@blogger.comBlogger213125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-54163198940737865692018-10-11T23:35:00.000-04:002018-10-12T17:47:30.131-04:00The neurodiversity movements needs its shoes off, and fists up.<h2 style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">The neurodiversity movements needs its shoes off, and fists up.</span></span></h2><b id="docs-internal-guid-4895274a-7fff-007f-458e-73eaf35742c2" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">CW: Mention of sexual violence.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks to Tracey Hickey for intellectual support in drafting this essay. </span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="626" data-original-width="1066" height="374" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uTXiiCD-Hcg/W8AVtPJtumI/AAAAAAAAhKg/8TRaswqxMKIClc_5F1Q1SK5F8QTrrW0KACLcBGAs/s640/Neurodiversity%2BMovement_Fists%2BUp..png" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>[Photo: Graphic in deep red and black, with dark/dramatic aesthetic, showing many fists raised in the air. White large text says Neurodiversity Movement: Fists Up. Small white text says Autistic Hoya.]</i></span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is a book set to be published in the next few weeks that features a set of short essays on the future of disability studies (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Manifestos for the Future of Critical Disability Studies, Vol 1.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">). I’m sad and concerned about one of the of the essays in the collection, titled “</span><a href="http://academia.edu/27111285/Dear_Neurodiversity_Movement_Put_Your_Shoes_On" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dear neurodiversity movement: Put your shoes on</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">” by Dr. Sonya Freeman Loftis (also an autistic advocate), which, among other faulty arguments, cites a </span><a href="https://www.autistichoya.com/2011/08/significance-of-semantics-person-first.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2011 blog post of mine</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to support a point I strongly reject and oppose. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Dr. Loftis’s argument in that section of her chapter decontextualizes my post by attributing a meaning and intent to it that I did not have and do not support. The citation follows the statement, “It is disturbing to me how incredibly angry people in the autism community have become over terminology,” and seems to be referencing a particular paragraph in that post which references civility, immaturity, and sensitivity in arguments about language preferences. My intent with that segment of the post, which I overall still support although my exact thoughts have naturally changed in the last seven years, was primarily to address autistic people disagreeing with one another, and to urge us to use basic respect and decency — not to suppress all anger and other harsh sentiments. The footnote accompanying the citation says, incorrectly on my reading of it, “Autistic activist and influential blogger Lydia X. Z. Brown has also called for an end to this anger.” </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And while I appreciate what it seems Dr. Loftis has attempted to do, in qualifying many of her statements in-text and in footnotes, I also profoundly disagree with the vast majority of the author’s arguments and intentionalities, and would like to set the record straight while offering a countering perspective and call to action. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(Dr. Loftis, to be clear, this is not a call-out, but rather, I hope, an invitation for further discussion and dialogue with you as a fellow member of the autistic community.)</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><h2 style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">I need my shoes off.</span></span></h2><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m currently sitting in an office behind a desk with my shoes on. I would strongly prefer that they be off. In fact, I usually sit at desks with my shoes off, because it’s infinitely more comfortable and freeing for my sensory and proprioceptive needs to take my shoes off. (I have a specific posture with my feet and my legs that is most comfortable for me, which results in leveraging my feet against part of my shoes to create a sensation of pressure, while one or both of my knees or ankles is also pressed against the leg of a table or desk for more pressure.) The only reason my shoes are still on right now is because it would take too much coordination of effort and steps involved to take them off, and eventually I will need to walk outside (a task that for me, always needs shoes).</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Several years ago, when I was working in an office environment for the first time, one of my supervisors noticed that I was sitting at my desk with my shoes off, and she pulled me aside to tell me that that was generally unacceptable and unprofessional to do in the office. She mentioned that it would probably be okay to take my shoes off if no one was walking by and I was just at my desk, but that if I needed to go anywhere, like walk to the copier or heat up my food in the microwave, I needed to put my shoes back on. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Since then, I’ve found myself in vastly different spaces and places, everywhere from radically defiant queer and trans people of color gatherings in apartments shared by several roommates to the glistening downtown high-rise office suites of white shoe law firms; from the grimy visiting rooms in jails and prisons that sometimes have cockroaches crawling across the floors and always have prison guards watching for the slightest reason to enact more violence against you and the person you are visiting today, to the esteemed halls and elegant receiving rooms of the White House and Capitol Hill. (I usually keep my shoes on in all of them.)</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But to the larger metaphorical argument made in “Dear neurodiversity movement: Put your shoes on,” I have to respond with a resounding and vehement </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">NO</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. I do not believe in even attempting to appease the impossible, asymptoptic standards of respectability politics and (white, abled, cis, masculine-centric) professionalism simply because such attempts will always and inevitably be doomed to fail. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><h2 style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Respectability politics is a failed project.</span></span></h2><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I wrote “The Significance of Semantics” more than seven years ago, when I was emerging into and exploring the autistic activist community beyond the folks leading the work in Massachusetts where I grew up. Since then, I’ve taught an undergraduate seminar, served as chair of an independent state government agency, and begun work in the legal profession after earning my law degree (by the skin of my teeth, I might add). I’ve also lost out — I’ve gained perhaps nearly as many enemies as friends and cordial colleagues, if not more, in both activist and professional spaces; I’ve lost out on amazing professional and academic opportunities, many almost certainly because I refuse to be silent about violences such as white supremacy, ongoing settler-colonialism, and racism-ableism; I’ve received enough rejections to make a single-spaced bullet-pointed list of them nearly ten pages long.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Whether I wore a suit and kept my shoes on, or not, did not change this. Whether I decided to publicly or demonstratively stim or not, did not change this. Whether I decided to disclose and declare proudly that I am autistic and proud, or neglect to mention it, did not change this. I know who and what I am, what I am capable of achieving, and what and how I am worth(y). Sometimes I don’t, won’t, or can’t measure up. My ability to mask or pass has minimal effect. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m constantly caught between demands that I perform an impossible level of respectability, professionalism, or whatever you want to call it, or else be completely discarded and invalidated, and the reality that no matter how well I can operate in stealth or mask or pass as having any manner of privileges I currently lack, I will still be ignored and dismissed and accused of being too radical, too militant, too intense, too crazy, too immature, too unpressional, too passionate, too scary, too angry, too bitter, too resentful. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In a recent workplace, a supervisor (who was a nondisabled white man) attempted to pit me and one of my friends (who is a nondisabled Black woman) against each other in a classic game of divide and conquer. All of our other colleagues were white, so of course, we were the only two targeted for constant micromanaging and condescension. He insinuated repeatedly that I was incompetent and incapable of performing my responsibilities, and eventually began to exclude me from work-related emails while only emailing my friend — enacting misogynoir (racist misogyny targeting Black women) against her by demanding she perform extra labor (i.e. all of my work), to pick up for me, and enacting intense ableism against me by presuming my incompetence and assuming I needed to be taken care of, handled, or managed. At one point, my friend had several absences because of a personal emergency, which he excused in writing. Later, he blamed me for all of the absences — stating in writing that I was absent each of those times — and penalized me for them. The facts that I did my damndest to fulfill my duties (and go above and beyond), knew how to dress court-appropriately, and wrote excellent professional and legal work did not matter. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Respectability politics didn’t save me then, and they won’t save our community or movement now or in the future either. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Believe me, I understand the need for day to day survival. If wearing a suit versus a t-shirt and jeans will make a difference in whether my advocacy for/with a friend or client works, of course I’ll wear the suit. If using certain academic/professional field-specific terminology will help an audience understand an argument I’m making, of course I’ll use that terminology (so long as it’s not something I find inherently dehumanizing). If I need to be careful about not dropping the word “fuck” during a job interview (which we all should strive to not do), of course I’ll be mindful of it. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Many of us also understand both how fucking privileged it is to be able to enter the world of higher education, let alone exit with the degree in hand, and how much more respect (and therefore credibility, legitimacy, and potential influence/ability to intervene in terrible situations/systems of power) we will gain if we do so, respect that can help us and those we care about survive. I know this intimately, because I’ve already experienced how much easier it is to move through certain specific spaces now that I can put letters after my name. But no amount of degrees or professional credentials will ever unmake me as a neurodivergent, disabled, queer, nonbinary trans, East Asian weirdo. I still have people ask me where my parents are.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I will never blame, shame, or guilt any other marginalized person (let alone those of us at the margins of the margins) for using respectability politics as a(n imperfect, and not guaranteed) survival or coping mechanism, and I firmly believe it is harmful and dangerous whenever other community members do so. We should instead always strive to support one another in using whatever tactics we need to survive. At the same time, I believe that any argument in favor of a community-wide adoption of/adherence to respectability politics (even with the caveat that not all people have the privilege to be able to pass or mask, either at all, or consistently), is also deeply harmful and dangerous. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Individual people (to the extent they are capable of doing so) may need to reply on respectability politics simply to survive — to survive school, to survive the terrifying experience of involuntary commitment, to survive a potentially deadly police encounter, to survive in the capitalist society we live in that assigns value and worth based on productivity and labor. I respect and affirm that.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Our movement, however, needs nothing of respectability politics. Accepting — conceding, surrendering, submitting to — that will only erode our movement until it crumbles entirely. Respectability politics is what’s gotten us into reliance on foundations and nonprofits, and elected officials and bureaucrats, and policies and programs that only benefit the most privileged and resourced members of our communities at the direct expense of the most marginalized. Radical, militant anger — and radical, militant hope, and radical, wild dreams, and radical, active love — that’s what’ll get us past the death machines of ableism and capitalism and white supremacy and laws and institutions working overtime to kill us.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><h2 style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Anger is a necessary rhetorical and strategic tool.</span></span></h2><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“</span><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">stop telling people not to be angry. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">anger can absolutely be transformative. none of our movements would happen without it. anger can help reveal what is most important to us and give us a kind of clarity that few other emotions can.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">anger is fire and fire is powerful. we can channel anger in useful &amp; accountable ways.”</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">— <a href="https://leavingevidence.wordpress.com/about-2/" target="_blank">Mia Mingus</a></span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The idea that anger necessarily, innately, and inevitably harms a movement and drives allies away is a red herring intended to distract movements and communities away from legitimate (and completely rational/logical) anger instead of focusing our attention, and labors, on serious matters of societal, intra-community, and interpersonal violence.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yes, of course, the most effective tactic to use when a would-be ally makes a mistake, particularly one that causes serious and lasting harm, may depend very much on context, and may not always (or even often) be the tactic of yelling at that person. It is not strategic to use only one tactic (whether that is the tactic of gentle, placating correction in private, or the tactic of extremely loud and public harsh callout, or anything else for that matter) for </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">every </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">possible situation or encounter. Few, if any of us, would contest that. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And I’m certainly the last person to argue in favor of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">unnecessary </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(and frankly, ableist, racist, and classist) gatekeeping, litmus tests, and nitpicking of terminology or exact professed politics for people in activist or advocacy spaces (beyond what I hope would be clear boundaries and limits for those I’m willing to organize with, which might of course be somewhat different than what I’m willing to accept from people not currently invested in organizing, while still sharing a common baseline). Of course, some strong boundaries are good and healthy and necessary, and often hard to set and enforce because we have been traumatized by so many violations over many lifetimes, individually and collectively. Like not accepting any amount of sexual harassment whatsoever, let alone any other form of sexual violence, in our communities, or apologetics for white supremacy.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I recognize the tension inherent in calls to both educate and lift up </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">all </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">community members, as many of us who are marginalized in one way may yet actively participate in oppression and violence against people marginalized in different ways (since we all have capacity to harm, and since interlocking systems of oppression work by pitting us against each other), </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">while also </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">rejecting firmly the notion or expectation that the most marginalized have a lifelong obligation to perform the uncompensated and exploited labor of personally educating those who hurt us in a way that doesn’t threaten them. But we can’t expect to do the work of solidarity, of striving to practice allyship, if we aren’t willing to face the anger of those we, our ancestors, and/or our communities have harmed in the process. (That doesn’t mean that each of us must individually submit to public flagellation as a community punching bag, or that we have to be happy about someone else’s anger being directed at us. But it does mean that our discomfort with someone else’s anger, if we’re the person who caused them harm, is less of a concern than that person’s (re)traumatization. We can process it… with someone else. And if we must, perhaps because the expression of anger could also be retraumatizing to some of us, we can choose not to be around that person in the future, though that isn’t necessarily a good strategy to apply to each situation in which someone expresses anger for any reason.) </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In organizing and activism, sometimes it makes sense to display calm. Other times, it makes much more sense to kick and scream.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We can be kind, compassionate, caring, and gentle (when appropriate, as it may be in many cases, though certainly is not in many others) with would-be allies </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">with fellow community members, without holding ourselves to the superficially saccharine or dehumanizing standards of respectability, and the farce of moral superiority that comes with condescendingly condemning use of anger in our rhetoric and strategies. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But we can’t possibly be committed to the long-haul work of liberation and justice — the freedom work, the community-building work, the creating-alternatives work — without completely rejecting the false promises and mythologies of respectability politics and its cousin, “civil discourse.” </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><h2 style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Public stimming is beautiful, and we should keep doing it.</span></span></h2><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Dr. Loftis also writes against certain forms of public stimming for an audience, which I’ll quote here at length before responding: </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">[begin quote — internal paragraph breaks added]</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I do think that Autistic activists need to think carefully about our intention, motivation, and goals in the public performance of stimming. When I see other Autistics performing authentic stimming in public (stimming that can’t be controlled, or stimming that expresses joy, or stimming that relieves anxiety), I am proud of them and joyful with them. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But sometimes I have also seen activists engaged in stimming that was </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">not </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">authentic — stimming deliberately used to get attention or to make a statement. I’m not sure if this staged stimming is good and true: I’m not even sure if it could properly be called “stimming” (if stimming becomes divorced from its joy, its delicious rush, its natural high, is it still stimming?). And when we aren’t stimming for joy, because our bodies want and need it, because it is physically releasing us from neurotypical oppression (the rule of quiet hands), then who or what are we stimming for? </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I think that our public stimming (like our private stimming) should be real and true (and not masquerade). It troubles me to see stimming that has an agenda and is divorced from authentic Autistic emotion, from authentic Autistic body language, from an authentic Autistic experience. I’m not telling you where and when and why to stim. (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Don’t ever let anyone tell you that.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m calling for us, as individuals, to reflect on our motivations for public displays of stimming — particularly when we are deliberately choosing stimming as a mode of communication aimed at a neurotypical audience . If our primary audience is neurotypical, we must remember that stimming does not signify in the majority neurotypical culture what stimming signifies in the Autistic sub-culture. Are we always sending the right message, via the right medium, to the right audience? In short, stim loud and proud (and authentically and thoughtfully and joyfully).</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">[end quote]</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wrote an article titled “Autism isn't speaking: Autistic subversion in media and public policy” in a book published last year (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Barriers and Belonging: Personal Narratives of Disability</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">). Part of my article discussed how and why I deliberately choose to stim by hand-flapping and sometimes rocking, in public spaces. I did not hand-flap or rock intuitively as a child. I did not start to do so until I was well into college, and by then it was always a conscious, deliberate choice. This does not make stimming any less authentic than it is for someone who has always done it their entire life. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stimming is enjoying the physical, proprioceptive, sensory movement and input, or using it to modulate or self-regulate. We know from experience and community narratives that autistic people stim (in various ways) for various reasons, including because of anxiety, because of anger, because of sadness, because of overstimulation, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and because of joy</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. We know it is inherently communicative, even if the communication is not understood/received by the audience. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When those of us who choose to publicly and intentionally stim do so, we are not inauthentic or fake, but we are giving ourselves permission to enjoy bodily movement forms that are peculiarly (though of course not exclusively) autistic, and to incorporate them into our palate of expressive communication and self-regulation. Doing so for political reasons does not ignore that neurotypical and other non-autistic people will almost certainly misinterpret it, or attribute horrible ableist meanings to it, but rather, is a direct discursive challenge to that kind of ableism.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It is a political choice, because it is choosing to be openly and unapologetically autistic. Being neurodivergent in public, ever, is putting oneself at risk. And if we’re choosing to stim in public in a way we didn’t do intuitively earlier in life (or had deliberately beaten or ABA’d out of us, in some cases), we are of course aware of and assuming that risk. We talk about the concept of “dignity of risk” in self-advocacy for a reason. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My chapter from </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Barriers and Belonging </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">mentioned a discussion I had a friend who is a convert/revert to Islam from a white Christian family. That friend told me that she chooses to wear a hijab (a head scarf) not because she believes that wearing a hijab is either mandatory for Muslim women or that it is inherently more modest than not wearing one, but rather because it is a publicly recognizable symbol of Muslim identity (Muslimah identity in particular). Her choice to wear hijab despite not believing it is mandatory or morally preferable, is a political one. It is “performative” in the sense that it communicates and performs something for public reception/consumption/spectacle, by choice of the person doing so. But performative does not mean inauthentic, let alone that it undermines others in the same community. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Similarly, I choose to hand-flap and rock in some public spaces, in front of neurotypical and other allistic people not because I am oblivious to the implications of it, but because I am keenly aware of the implications in a neurotypical-dominant society, and I choose to defy them. (Of course, this is also a privilege, as a light-skinned East Asian person, who is unlikely to be criminalized as a drug user or dangerously violent person for stimming and then put at risk of being shot and killed. But that does not mean I should refrain from all public stimming either. Visibility is not a worthy goal in and of itself. But there are many ways to challenge prevailing ideas and values.)</span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That's not to say public, intentional stimming is for everyone, or that it's the best or most important tactic to use to challenge ableist ideas about autism and neurodivergence in general. I value all tactics and contributions, and this is simply one of them.</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><h2 style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Integrating neurodiversity with disability justice does not require a pure social model, and never did.</span></span></h2><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Dr. Loftis’s article further challenges the neurodiversity movement — rooted in the autistic community, though of course by no means unique to autism — by arguing against a pure social model of disability for autism. Her implication is that the neurodiversity movement overall adopts an uncritical version of a pure social model of disability, while she argues that “[a]utism will never be completely de-pathologized — nor should it be.”</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t believe in a pure constructivism (pure social model) approach to any disability, though I do believe strongly in the need to depathologize autism. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The reality is that being an autistic person sometimes hurts and sucks, and would probably still hurt and suck at least sometimes even if the rest of the world were actually maximally accommodating and understanding and accessible and universally designed (though it would certainly be a lot less often, and possibly less severe). That reality doesn’t undermine the core tenets of the neurodiversity movement, though. Celebrating being autistic doesn’t mean adopting a false, oversimplified view of autism as only sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The neurodiversity movement is not about — or at least, it shouldn’t be about — rejecting every narrative or testimony or discussion of things that hurt or suck about being autistic. Depathologizing autism — or any disability — is not about stripping lived realities from our understanding of that disability, or denying the full breadth and depth of narratives of those with lived experience, or refusing to engage with rhetoric of pain, suffering, treatment, or cure. (Eli Clare writes eloquently on this topic in his new book </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.) What it is about is ridding autism, or disability in general, of the notion of inherent lack, brokenness, or defect. Many autistic activists in the neurodiversity movement have said this, in hundreds of different ways, for decades. It’s not a new concept. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Recognizing being autistic as </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">who we are </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(identity) and </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">how we exist in the world </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(experience, including negative, painful, and unwanted experiences) are not mutually exclusive or contradictory. Neurodiversity and Disability Justice, taken together, are indeed celebrations of who we are and how we exist in the world. They are also movements rooted in lived experience, which ask us to understand and engage with the many ways we relate to our bodies and brains, inside our own minds, and in social context. &nbsp;</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><h2 style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Taking our shoes off and raising our fists up.</span></span></h2><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As a young law graduate beginning legal work in a position where I will be responsible for legal advocacy for disabled children and youth facing all manner of violences in schools, I understand intimately the need for strategic and targeted “professionalism” in certain venues for specific reasons, by those of us who are able to be in and who choose to work in those venues. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But as an organizer and an advocate, I will always push for our movement </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">as a whole</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to take our shoes off wherever we can (because our comfort is in fact important and valuable for its own sake), and keep raising our fists up. </span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Dr. Loftis writes, “We have protests to stage and speeches to make and hearts to change. We have cultural narratives to rewrite. We have autistic children to save. It is going to be a long and hard road.”</span></span></div><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes. We have protests to stage, driven by the fuel of our righteous anger. We have speeches to make, written from the soaring pleas of our individual and collective trauma, and our wildest dreams of joy and freedom and love. We have cultural narratives to rewrite because they really do hate us and they really will kill us, and if we’re going to rewrite the narratives, then there’s no reason to hold ourselves back from our most radical and defiant rewritings. We have autistic children who need us to support them as architects of their own liberation against the schools and clinicians and institutions and police and prosecutors who would crush and destroy them. </span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We’re going to need our anger and our public celebrations of stimming and our complicated, imperfect, messy selves for this long and hard road, because we need all of us, and all of our tactics and strategies, to keep a movement going and ultimately, to win.</span></span></div><div style="height: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">x</span></div>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-72805305435745001352018-03-02T23:18:00.000-05:002018-03-02T23:18:25.099-05:00They keep publishing these violent articles<i>Content/TW: Abuse. Physical and emotional. Restraint. Deliberate causing trauma.&nbsp;</i><br /><br />I am livid.<br /><br />Shaking with rage.<br /><br />There's this essay going around, in the Washington Post, hailed as brave and courageous.<br /><br />A non autistic mother of an autistic young person wrote, triumphantly, about the time ten years ago she physically forced her kid into a crowded arena to see a show featuring one of their favorite characters, not despite their terror of big crowded indoor places but because of it so she could forcibly expose them to it. She physically restrained her kid, who was having a meltdown and maybe a panic attack, in public to forcibly drag them into the arena and even, laughably and horrifically, invoked the A D fucking A to claim she was somehow being "a reasonable accommodation" (this is eleven kinds of twisted) by carrying them in against their will.<br /><br />She recounts other parents as aghast at her behavior and dismisses them as ignorant by loudly proclaiming that her kid has autism (because that's a get out of jail free card for abuse), when another parent is literally telling her it's obvious her kid doesn't want to go and she should drop it. (The other parents were upset not because they don't understand autism but because, shock, they were minimally decent people who recognized abuse when they witnessed it.)<br /><br />She literally described the moment her kid got inside the arena as being "indistinguishable from his peers."<br /><br />That is the exact phrase word for word that Ole Ivaar Lovaas used to describe the goal of behaviorism. To make us indistinguishable from our peers (by stamping out the autistic) (by shocking our feet in water) (by punishing us for displaying autistic traits and rewarding us for supressing our natural selves). He founded what we know now as ABA, the supposedly evidence-based treatment for autism that every single autistic adult I know who survived it describes as abuse so traumatic they ALL have PTSD or CPTSD from it.<br /><br />And she literally calls her kid and every other autistic young person "a burden." Yes. She out and says it, directly. What we know most of you all already believe but think it's politically incorrect to voice. (It's not. It's normal.)<br /><br />I won't dignify that article by linking to it here.<br /><br />This parent is publishing a book. The title is Autism Uncensored, as if to imply that what she's got is the real deal instead of euphemistic autism prettified by buzzwords like neurodiversity which really must just apply to the supposedly "high functioning" and "mildly affected" (there is no such thing). I am so scared and angry for her kid (who she proudly brags that she has further tortured by forcibly dragging them to many more scary overwhelming huge indoor spaces), and terrified for what it will do to the many autistic young people whose parents will read it and consider doing the same.<br /><br />Every time you think we have gotten somewhere, we must be reminded, quite violently, we have not. This kind of bile is still worthy of publication more than ten years after I Am Autism and Autism Every Day, and it never really went anywhere in the meantime.<br /><br />All these horrifyingly ableist parents seem to be wealthy, white, and resourced enough to get these books published and profit enormously off of abusing and exploiting their kids, and other than Temple Grandin and John Elder Robison (who have made clear they are not invested in our community), where is that support for cultural work by actually autistic people? Books and memoirs and fiction and chapbooks we've created about autism as autistic people? That's right. Nowhere. Nothing.<br /><br />Back to business as usual.<br /><br />I dread March 1 next year because I know the list will only grow longer. People like this are only worsening the conditions that will get us there.Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-57617860039699775172017-12-07T00:39:00.003-05:002018-01-14T18:52:33.893-05:00Why we must #BoycottToSiri / An open letter to Judith Newman<i>Content/TW: Discussions of involuntary sterilization, abusive parenting, mentions of Nazis, eugenics, intense anti-autistic ableism in general.</i><br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Why we must #BoycottToSiri</span></b><br /><br />I originally wrote what appears below as&nbsp;<a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/936384563487694854" target="_blank">a series of tweets</a>, but they read better as a single letter. This is meant for Judith Newman, though I have no idea whether she will ever bother to read this blog post, and frankly, I would be terrified of whatever response she might have. But this must be said, by as many of us as can summon the courage to speak or write or sign it, and so here I am, urging anyone who wishes to do something to support actually autistic people not to buy this book written by a non-autistic parent of an autistic teen, in which (among many other horrifying things) she enthusiastically advocates for sterilizing her son and other autistic people to prevent us from reproducing and fulfilling our inevitable destiny to be naturally shitty parents (her ideas, not mine).<br /><br />She said that she is "counting the days" until her son turns eighteen so she can gain medical power of attorney and have him sterilized. She described in graphic detail the contents and types of porn that he watches. She said that she can only imagine him ever having sex with the Benny Hill soundtrack playing along with her mental image of it, and that that means it would have to be going horribly wrong. She said that he will die alone because no girl (assuming he must be heterosexual and only interested in girls/women) could ever want him. She said he is immature (HE IS THIRTEEN, CHRIST) and so would never be able to be a good parent. She said he could never be a loving partner (assuming he wants romance now or will in the future) because he is incapable of separating other people's needs from his own, let alone putting others before himself.<br /><br />This even apart from her misogynistic description and misgendering of&nbsp;Métis autistic activist Amythest Schaber without their consent, and her vehement objections to use of singular they as a gender-neutral pronoun&nbsp;<i>in the introduction to this book</i>&nbsp;(totally unrelated? hello?) while mentioning that she would like to punch her friend (who authored a book affirming and supporting her trans child) in the face for advocating for its use.<br /><br />Yes, it is that bad.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="940" height="536" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OGuRwVEHnA4/WijTXO6sUXI/AAAAAAAAPSA/mxPyzf_9K28U4k_VzrRwucVBLApDNzQpwCLcBGAs/s640/Judith%2BNewman.png" width="640" /></imageanchor></div>[photo: graphic with image of an open notebook-style journal, full cup of coffee, and pencil on a wooden table or desk as the background. small text on the notebook says in all capital letters, "Letter to Judith Newman" and "Why We Must #BoycottToSiri." large text on the notebook says in a script, handwriting-like font, "all of this is fucked." large text at the bottom of the graphic says, "There is not enough caffeine in the world for me to deal with this shit."]<br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">An open letter to Judith Newman:</span></b><br /><br />Autistic people are human beings. We can and must make our own medical choices, especially about procedures as invasive and permanent as sterilization.<br /><br />Forcible/involuntary sterilization because you're afraid of someone like me reproducing? Direct and clear example of modern eugenics.<br /><br />You can't imagine your son in a sexual situation because he is autistic? You have a serious lack of imagination. Autistic people span the entire sexual and asexual spectrums.<br /><br />You publicly talked about what kind of porn your son watches. In a New York Times "bestseller." I am so, so horrified, angry, and betrayed on behalf of your son.<br /><br />You are convinced your son will die alone because no girl could ever possibly be interested in him. That is blatant, horrifying ableism.<br /><br />You are counting down the days until you can involuntarily sterilize your son, which you want to do because he is autistic. I hope he escapes your house.<br /><br />This time next year, I'll be a licensed attorney. Many actually autistic and other disabled people are too. Believe you me, we will line up to fight you if you try this against his will.<br /><br />I am TERRIFIED for your son, because he has to live with you. Your book shows your true self. What kind of parent you are. What kind of person you are. And it's scary as fuck.<br /><br />Your son needs love and support. Not mockery, public humiliation, condescension, and threats of involuntary, invasive, and permanent medical procedures.<br /><br />How the hell do you expect your son to learn to be a loving partner to a woman, a man, or a non-binary person, if you already assume he can't be? You are supposed to teach him!<br /><br />You wrote that you don't believe your son is or ever will be capable of putting other people's feelings ahead of his own. I read that and am sick to my stomach.<br /><br />I'm an actually autistic adult, and I feel such overwhelmingly intense empathy for YOUR SON that I am crying thinking of what it must be like to be him knowing/finding out you've written this bullshit about him in public.<br /><br />Do you know about Micah David Cole-Fletcher? He is an autistic poet and a hero in Portland, Oregon. He got stabbed because he stood up to white supremacists abusing two women of color. Two others were murdered.<br /><br /><a href="http://goo.gl/GFL573" target="_blank">READ</a>.<br /><br />We actually autistic people are constantly scrambling with extremely limited resources and the challenges of multiple disabilities to save each other from eviction, institutionalization, and abuse, every day.<br /><br />That's autistic empathy.<br /><br />Every day I know of actually autistic people, most of whom will never get news media coverage, sacrificing every second of their time and every bit of their available effort, to fight against violence and harm.<br /><br />When you describe your son as lacking in empathy, compassion, and the ability to put others before himself, you directly attack the core integrity of some of the most self-sacrificing humans on this planet.<br /><br />What about Jennifer Msumba's courage in speaking up against the JRC for torturing disabled people? Of facing the very people who abused her and still justify it, because it might get others out and make the torture stop?<br /><br />That's autistic empathy.<br /><br />Look, every autistic person will not have a romantic or sexual relationship in their lifetimes. But that's not either a core trait of being autistic, nor is it a reflection of lesser personhood.<br /><br />The point that I am trying to make, that I sincerely doubt you will ever be willing to listen to (but yet hope against hope you will), is that your son is a full human being.<br /><br />Not despite autism.<br /><br />He is autistic and human and these are not contradictory.<br /><br />One day, if he hasn't yet, your son will read what you wrote about him, publicly, and my heart breaks for him for when that day comes.<br /><br />This is betrayal.<br /><br />This is betrayal.<br /><br />This is betrayal.<br /><br />You wrote that your son should not reproduce because he could never be a father. This is wrong.<br /><br />Autistic people around the globe are already proud, loving parents of children -- autistic and non-autistic. Being autistic does not mean we cannot love or care.<br /><br />An autistic person dropped everything and drove three hours nonstop to get to me when I was in the middle of a mental health crisis.<br /><br />(And surely you must know how much we hate interruptions to routine/sudden changes.)<br /><br />That's autistic love and care.<br /><br />I know an autistic person dedicated to finding and supporting the most isolated human beings locked in inhumane conditions in prisons with no budget and no donors, traveling from prison to prison in the face of violence.<br /><br />That's autistic love and care.<br /><br />My partner (also autistic) and I drove 18+ hours through 8 states to support two other human beings in getting to a safe place to live and escaping homelessness.<br /><br />We don't want praise or money. Just to do what's right.<br /><br />That's autistic love and care.<br /><br />I know an autistic person with multiple disabilities and chronic illnesses who performed life-saving labor for another disabled person who was almost left for dead, even at the expense of their own physical health.<br /><br />That's autistic love and care.<br /><br />You say your son cannot be a father or a loving partner because he can't love or care for others. Because he can't put others before himself. If he still loves you after finding out about this horror show of a book, he will have already proved you wrong.<br /><br />You say he should not father a child because he is immature. Do you realize how many grown-ass, NON-DISABLED men are out there with children who are immature/unempathetic as fuck? (Hint: Some of them are called Senator and Representative. One's called President.)<br /><br />As an autistic human being, I am enraged and devastated at Harper Books' decision to publish this garbage. Because it's not only your son this has/will hurt. It's many, many more autistic people whose parents will read it.<br /><br />I teach a college course on disability police and social movements. In one unit, we discuss in brutal, graphic detail the long and continuing history of involuntary sterilizations of disabled people, PoC, and disabled PoC specifically. It's called eugenics.<br /><br />The idea that disabled people are incapable of parenting, shouldn't reproduce more disabled people, and shouldn't be having sex ... That's called eugenics. It's the very same idea that led to the Nazi's T-4 program. They called us "useless eaters."<br /><br />You know who else thought we shouldn't be reproducing? The mass murderer in Sagamihara, Japan, who last year stabbed 19 disabled people to death and injured 26 more. He said he wanted to rid the world of us.<br /><br />You think you're nothing like him but you're wrong.<br /><br />Here's what you share:<br /><br />* A belief that disabled people cannot be full human beings<br /><br />* A belief that disabled people shouldn't be reproducing<br /><br />The difference is that he stabbed people. You wrote a book with these ideas. But I'm afraid others might be inspired.<br /><br />Now I know that on the off-chance you ever read these messages, your first reaction will be to tell me how mean I am. (Because you get to be upset if I'm harsh, but I'm just mean because I obviously lack empathy and social skills. /sarcasm, of course)<br /><br />Your second response will be to tell me that I'm nothing like your child. You will tell me that I'm articulate, intelligent, obviously functional, and successful. You will say that I have a very mild form of autism.<br /><br />These are ableist distractions.<br /><br />No, I don't know your son personally. No, I have not lived in the same house as him. But I have lived in a harsh, violent world my entire life with a brain very much like his. (And I'm older than your son. By about ten years.)<br /><br />The truth is, no matter what specific struggles or skills I have, I'm autistic like your son, and you ... you are not. I am like your child.<br /><br />I cannot comprehend why or how someone who is supposed to love me the most could hurt/hate me so much.<br /><br />You may believe you love your son. But we, autistic people, hear what you have actually said, which is that you hate him. You love a version of him that does not exist.<br /><br />(<a href="https://goo.gl/JZzjwL" target="_blank">Learn from Jim Sinclair</a>.)<br /><br />You have put something incredibly, horrifyingly dangerous into the world. You can't take it back, not completely. But you can and must make amends for your flagrant abuse of your privilege, power, and resources.<br /><br />For the sake of your son.<br /><br />For the sake of others like him.<br /><br />For the sake of those to come after him.<br /><br />We deserve to live free of fear of violence, especially from the people who are most supposed to love and protect us.<br /><br />And make no mistake -- forcible, involuntary sterilization, and legal authority over another person's medical decision-making, these are forms of violence.<br /><br />You are plotting to take away your son's right to control his own body.<br /><br />You are plotting to become the biggest, worst, and most inescapable abuser in your son's life.<br /><br />You still have a chance to stop and backtrack. To be a supportive, actually loving parent.<br /><br />But your window of time is shrinking, fast.<br /><br />You need to start with apologizing to your son and coming clean about what you've done if he doesn't know already.<br /><br />And then you need to do your damndest to combat the dangerous messages you've put out there in the world.<br /><br />You need to make sure that your son knows that he and he alone controls his own body.<br /><br />He and he alone gets to decide what, whether, when, and how other people can do anything to him -- sexually, medically, reproductively.<br /><br />That means apologizing for violating any tiny sense of privacy he might have ever had.<br /><br />That means apologizing for thinking of him as less than a full person.<br /><br />That means apologizing for publicly humiliating and mocking him.<br /><br />That means connecting him, ASAP, to autistic adults who can mentor and support him coming into adulthood as an autistic teen.<br /><br />That means making sure he gets real, meaningful sex education about reproductive choices, reproductive healthcare, and what consent is.<br /><br />That means promising to him and to yourself that you will not be counting the days until you can legally steal from your son his right to control his own body.<br /><br />(Yes I am stuck on that. Because it's disgusting and morally appalling.)<br /><br />If you want to show to your son how to put others' feelings ahead of their own, retract the book. Demand the publisher ice it. Forgo the royalties, the speaking engagements, the press.<br /><br />Put your son ahead of yourself. Put his dignity and his humanity first.<br /><br />If you still want to write another book later, let it be an honest book. Let it be a book where your son is humanized instead of dehumanized and mocked. Let it be a book where you are a flawed human instead of a hero/saint/angel/martyr.<br /><br />Until you are ready to accept full responsibility for what you have done to autistic people present and future as well as your own son, and take appropriate action to rectify it, we have nothing further to discuss.<br /><br />I will take my rage and weeping apart from you.<br /><br />________________<br /><br />Interested in putting $$$ where it counts?<br /><br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/HTCollective/" target="_blank">Harriet Tubman Collective</a>&nbsp;@HTCsolidarity: badass group of Black Deaf and Disabled organizers<br /><br /><a href="http://www.autismwomensnetwork.org/" target="_blank">Autism Women's Network</a> @autism_women: intersectional powerhouse/support network<br /><br /><a href="http://www.behearddc.org/" target="_blank">HEARD</a>: @behearddc: fights Deaf wrongful convictions and coordinating community trainings<br /><br /><a href="https://autisticadvocacy.org/" target="_blank">Autistic Self Advocacy Network</a> @autselfadvocacy: leader in D.C. policy advocacy<br /><br /><a href="https://disabilityvisibilityproject.com/" target="_blank">Disability Visibility Project</a> @DisVisibility: amplification of disabled activism<br /><br /><a href="http://rampyourvoice.com/" target="_blank">Ramp Your Voice</a> @RampYourVoice: Black disabled woman-centric project<br /><br /><a href="http://nosmag.org/" target="_blank">NOS Magazine</a> @NOSeditorial: magazine by/for neurodivergent writers and language access<br /><br /><a href="http://www.dredf.org/" target="_blank">Disability Rights Education and Defense Fund</a> @DREDF and <a href="http://www.bazelon.org/" target="_blank">Bazelon Center for Mental Health Law</a> @BazelonCenter: cutting-edge legal advocacy<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sinsinvalid.org/" target="_blank">Sins Invalid</a> @sinsinvalid: performance project centering sick/disabled QTPOC<br /><br /><a href="http://kriphopnation.com/" target="_blank">Krip Hop Nation</a> @kriphopnation: PoC-centric disabled cultural activism via hip-hop<br /><br /><a href="https://barkingsycamores.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Barking Sycamores</a> @BarkingSycamore and <a href="https://www.deafpoetssociety.com/" target="_blank">Deaf Poets Society</a> @thedeafpoets: Disabled/neurodivergent/Deaf literary ventures<br /><br /><a href="https://batjc.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Bay Area Transformative Justice Collective</a> (contact Mia Mingus @miamingus)<br /><br /><a href="http://www.alacostacenters.org/" target="_blank">Ala Costa Adult Transition Services</a> @alacostaACAT: direct services agency run by autistic adults<br /><br /><a href="http://adapt.org/" target="_blank">National ADAPT</a> @NationalADAPT: grassroots direct action against harmful legislation (saved Medicaid repeatedly)<br /><br /><a href="http://www.thetaskforce.org/" target="_blank">National LGBTQ Task Force</a> @TheTaskForce: First LGBTQ+ org hosting disability justice project led by disabled TWOC<br /><br /><a href="http://www.srlp.org/" target="_blank">Sylvia Rivera Law Project</a> @SRLP: legal advocacy for low-income, people of color, immigrant, and incarcerated TGNC folks<br /><br /><a href="https://www.bellevuecollege.edu/autismspectrumnavigators/" target="_blank">Autism Spectrum Navigators at Bellevue College</a> @BellevueCollege: peer support/full integration/autistic culture symposium<br /><br /><i><a href="http://www.autismandrace.com/" target="_blank">All the Weight of Our Dreams: On Living Racialized Autism</a></i> edited by Lydia X. Z. Brown, E. Ashkenazy, and Morénike Giwa Onaiwu: first anthology by autistic racialized and people of color<br /><br />Disability Intersectionality Summit: what it says on tin/contact @IntersectedCrip<br /><br /><a href="https://citizendirectedsupports.org/" target="_blank">Alliance for Citizen Directed Supports</a> @CitizenDirected: association for real community integration and self-determination for ALL people with intellectual and developmental disabilities<br /><br />Another awesome publisher centering multiply-marginalized #OwnVoices: <a href="https://www.cuilpress.com/" target="_blank">Cuil Press</a> @CuilPress led by disabled founder&nbsp;Michón Neal<br /><br /><a href="http://www.clb.org/" target="_blank">Columbia Lighthouse for the Blind</a> @ColumbiaLight direct peer-led services for Blind/DeafBlind/Blind+Disabled people<br /><a href="http://yodisabledproud.org/" target="_blank"><br /></a><a href="http://yodisabledproud.org/" target="_blank">Youth Organizing YO! Disabled and Proud</a> @Yodisabledproud: disabled youth leadership+empowerment<br /><br />And lastly, if you're reading this, learned something, and have privilege and money? Consider donating to support me and my work (much of which I do not broadcast publicly but directly benefits/supports marginalized people). PayPal Lydia at autistichoya dot com.<br /><br />________________<br /><br />(Note -- in writing the original tweets, I was torn between naming people without their consent, versus describing them without naming them to avoid potentially unwanted naming/outing/visibility -- which itself can often be dangerous, exploitative, and abusive. I erred toward not naming people since I did not have time or spoons to ask each person I was thinking of for their consent. Where people are named, it is because they have already spoken/written/been described very publicly and as an autistic person.)Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-22719141289941821022017-08-23T23:07:00.000-04:002017-08-23T23:07:27.850-04:00Thinking about patterns of opposite extremes among autistic peopleAbout a year and a half ago, I posted <a href="https://goo.gl/rwavQ8" target="_blank">this list of characteristics</a> that seem to be much more common in autistic people (especially the more of them a person has) than in non-autistic people. But both while writing that list, and over many years of thinking, being with other autistic people, and learning about many of our experiences, I keep noticing this one pattern among our experiences -- we tend toward extremes of the same phenomenon, both between different autistic people (and thus, observable sub-groups of autistic people) and within the same person (often dependent on context).<br /><br />Other people have noticed the same pattern in some contexts, like the rough split between sensory-avoidance and sensory-seeking, and noting that an individual autistic person can be both very sensory-seeking in some contexts but very sensory-avoidant in others. Or in noting autistic people's relationship to math -- apparently roughly half (this is not a scientific number) of us struggle intensely with and hate or at least dislike math, while the other rough half of us have a deep affinity and love for math. Or in noting autistic people's use of verbal speech or writing -- many autistic people rely heavily on text-based forms of communication, especially with widespread availability of instant messaging apps, but there are many other autistic people who have such difficulty processing language that they have extreme struggles with text-based forms of communication.<br /><br />But I've also noticed this phenomenon crop up in about a million (still not a scientific number) other contexts, such as the following:<br /><br />(1) Autistic people tend to be either extremely gender non-conforming and oblivious (or deliberately indifferent) to gender norms and expectations, OR, extremely gender-conforming, and hyper-attuned to gender norms and expectations (regardless of whether this related to compliance-training in a very patriarchal society).<br /><br />(2) Autistic people tend to be either asexual (or somewhere on the asexuality spectrum, including gray-asexual or demisexual), and indifferent or totally repulsed by sex, OR, hyper-sexual, and very desiring of and interested in sexual intimacy.<br /><br />(3) Autistic people tend to either hold very intense and long-lasting grudges (even for many, many years) and resentment, OR, to let go of wrongs and slights very easily, and have an intensely forgiving and merciful nature.<br /><br />(4) Autistic people tend to be either extremely aware of and affected by their surrounding climate (temperature, humidity/dryness, etc., either indoors or outdoors), OR, extremely oblivious and indifferent to these factors.<br /><br />(5) Autistic people tend to either like their drinks/food to be at very cold/hot temperatures, OR, to like their drinks/food to be closer to room temperature and only mildly cool or mildly warm.<br /><br />(6) Autistic people tend to either develop very strong feelings/opinions about autism and disability-related politics (regardless of what those opinions are), OR, are very indifferent to and uninterested in autism/disability politics.<br /><br />(7) Among autistic people who do autism/disability activism, we tend to be either very interested in and excited by critical theory type work, OR, we tend to be totally uninterested, put off by, or even irritated by that type of work.<br /><br />(8) Autistic people tend to be either extremely regimented and strict about timeliness and schedules, and have very high anxiety when timeliness/schedules don't work out, OR, have extreme difficulties in understanding time, and following schedules/keeping appointments/being on time to things.<br /><br />(9) Autistic people tend to either do really well in school or at conventional/traditional academics (either in K-12, or in college, if they get to go), OR, struggle immensely with school and conventional/traditional academics (either in K-12, or in college, if they get to go), and even fail out.\<br /><br />(10) Autistic people tend to be either deeply emotionally and intellectually invested in fiction (books, shows, movies, whole fandoms, etc.), OR, have extreme difficulty even cognitively processing or understanding fiction, let alone relating to it.<br /><br />(11) Autistic people tend to be either really into extremely spicy foods, OR, have an intense aversion to basically anything spicy at all.<br /><br />(12) Autistic people tend to be either stunningly adept at navigation/directions, OR, terrifying incapable of doing them.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="528" data-original-width="960" height="352" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ESNfR5GKB_k/WZ41fzr5IQI/AAAAAAAAMmI/yxSsty8EWKgBH7eZTZuT6xlMbqFx6B4DwCLcBGAs/s640/Lydia%2Bon%2Bthe%2BTube.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><br />On that one, I'm definitely in the second category ... In this photo, I'm pretending not to be totally panicked about being lost and confused while on the Tube in London. (The t-shirt, which isn't fully visible, has an upside down cat with bugged out eyes, and says, "I can't adult today," which in retrospect, was very apropos.) (photo by Eleanor Lisney from <a href="http://www.sisofrida.org/" target="_blank">Sisters of Frida</a>, and yes at some point, we got separated on the Tube, and at another point, we managed to get separated on *the Eurostar train going between different <i>entire fucking countries</i>*)<br /><br />In each of these sets of patterns, the extremes can also exist in the same person. Someone might like certain categories of drinks/food to be at extremely noticeable hot/cold temperatures, but other categories to be at tepid/lukewarm temperatures. Someone might have high anxiety about other people making it on time to things and starting events on time, but also struggle greatly with any expectations of being on time themselves, simply because time is impossible for them. Someone might do very well with one type of school environment, and earn excellent grades and academic achievements, but struggle hard with another type of school environment (commonly they do very well with K-12 and then struggle with higher education, or the reverse).<br /><br />Note that these are just a few examples, and I'm sure there are hundreds more that any of us could think of, that we've observed in our own lives compared to those of other autistic people we know, work with, love, teach, learn from, or live around.<br /><br />What I find important about this type of pattern -- that autistics tend to fall into extremes of various characteristics, preferences, or access needs, both between different autistic people and within the same autistic person -- is what it means for accessibility. I don't really have answers or solutions, so much as ideas about starting points here.<br /><br />For the difference between autistic activists who are really invested in critical theory approaches, and those who have struggles with comprehending critical theory (whether they like it, dislike it, or are indifferent in the abstract), maybe the important thing isn't to try to come to a community-wide consensus about how we will talk about theories relating to autism and disability. Firstly, there is not and has never been such a thing as a single autistic community (and personally, I've been really cynical for several years now that any autistic community truly exists). Secondly, we're a loud and opinionated bunch, and we tend to cling tightly to our opinions (this is very often a good thing, to be clear), so, all of us agreeing on something is highly unlikely to occur. Thirdly, even if we did try to come to some kind of consensus, I'm pretty sure it would be more likely to just fuck over everyone a little instead of making it workable in a meaningful way for everyone, since we'd be asking everyone to compromise their access needs all the time.<br /><br />A better solution would be a process (not a one-time, end-all-be-all solution) that accounts for many different ways of doing and talking about activism, without treating one of them as better or more important than the others. We can value and support the people who are interested in, learn from, and are personally empowered by critical theory, so long as we also value and support the people who aren't interested in it, can't learn from it, and don't find themselves empowered much at all by it.<br /><br />Most importantly, real access has to mean not valuing one group over the other (or one tactic over the other, or one access need over the other). When those of us who go to conferences and write academic papers using critical theory get more (or almost all, or the only) attention, funding, opportunities for speaking or leading projects or whatever, and so on, that sends a message that only those of us who can do (never mind like or not) critical theory are really important or worth being in the movement. When all documents, resources, websites, and blog posts use critical theory language, that means that a huge swath of people are automatically excluded. (To be clear, I don't mean that you have to have a formal education, or be upper-class, or have fewer disabilities, to be able to access critical theory. I just mean you have to personally have a brain that understands it, and many of us don't. Personally, I kind of understand it, but only sometimes, and a lot of critical theory concepts are very slippery for me -- but I know I can use at least some of it, and I can and do.)<br /><br />I know we're (and I'm) not perfect, but I am committed to doing my best to respect everyone's access needs. I just know we can't do it by pretending even implicitly, that we have fairly monolithic needs, or by stopping once we merely acknowledge that we are all different. And I'm open to more observations of other patterns of opposing extremes, and suggestions for handling them -- I hope we can all keep learning from each other.Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-88471516579818806002017-07-16T15:04:00.002-04:002017-07-16T15:09:05.828-04:00Undesireability and sexual mockery (from autism meetups to high schools)<i>Content/TW: Sexual harassment, sexually/generally abusive relationships (including in linked posts)</i><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-__-aq1Gy9DM/WWu4SQLSNVI/AAAAAAAALsE/IJOgD_A8TVAL6bfckuSofDwToXOHtMtvgCLcBGAs/s640/o-BULLYING-facebook.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><div style="text-align: center;">[photo: stock image of an East Asian child wearing blue shorts and a yellow shirt, sitting with knees up and arms crossed to cover face, and head down, beside a backpack and in front of a brick wall, from an article about racist bullying.]</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Undesireability and sexual mockery<br /> (from autism meetups to high schools)</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Just yesterday, Kim Sauder at Crippled Scholar wrote a brilliant essay on what happens to disabled people not considered nonsexual but outright undesirable at "<a href="https://crippledscholar.com/2017/07/15/undesirable-toxic-romantic-dreams-disability-sexuality-and-relationships/">Undesirable: Toxic Romantic Dreams, Disability, Sexuality and Relationships</a>." Earlier this year, Kassiane Asasumasu at Radical Neurodivergence Speaking also wrote a badass post on a particular phenomenon that happens to her and many other autistic people who are women, femme, or forcibly assumed to be/assigned feminine or female, called <a href="http://timetolisten.blogspot.com/2017/03/autism-meet-up-groups-are-not-for.html">Autism Meet Up Groups ARE NOT for "finding a girlfriend"</a>.<br /><br />I want to share some of my own experiences with what Kim and Kassiane have written about. This type of sharing is something I generally don't do much of, and frequently avoid, because of my deep discomfort with the <a href="https://everything2.com/title/self-narrating+zoo+exhibit">self-narrating zoo exhibit expectation</a>&nbsp;that Jim Sinclair first named and described in the autistic community, though that type of exploitation and abuse is by no means specific to autistic people.<br /><br />In one autistic youth meetup many, many years ago, a parent of an autistic young man felt the need to inform my mom (who then passed on the information to me) that her son had never talked to a girl before. Even if the other person's mom meant this statement purely as an observation of fact (as far as she was aware of the goings-on in her son's life), and had no ulterior motive or agenda with putting this information into the conversation, I felt immediately uncomfortable.<br /><br />When someone's parent tells your parent, who then tells you, that they have never spoken to someone assumed to be/presenting as the "opposite" gender, there feels an unspoken expectation. Not just what some would call "heteronormative" (really, just assuming that everyone is either a girl or a boy, and if you are one, you must be attracted to/interested in the other, by default) expectations that he may now suddenly be romantically and/or sexually interested in me, but also that I must be automatically interested in return based solely on our (assumed) genders and the fact that we are both autistic. The other autistic person's mom never said the rest of this, at least to me, but as Kassiane repeatedly points out ... being autistic by itself is not the basis for a romantic/sexual relationship when you know nothing else yet (or very, very little) about the other person.<br /><br />There are other layers in there, like the assumption that <i>of course </i>autistic people should and would date only other autistic people, which includes its own ableism and disablism, by both implicitly assuming that allistic (non-autistic) people are somehow "above" autistic people and that we would be a step down for them to deign to date, and conversely, that autistic people are unable to date/have sex/have a relationship with allistic people because they would automatically be "out of our league." (Yes, this is also patriarchal language that assumes all relationships are a pursuit with the other person your prize, because that is part of the same gross assumptions here.)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><br />Total tangent time: "Ableism" is more common in the United States. "Disablism" is more common in the rest of the English-speaking world especially the United Kingdom. A lot of people are very attached to their preferred term, and will usually argue that it is the other one that centers nondisabled people. I used to believe that, and preferred ableism. Currently, I think both terms are useful and actually have different meanings. Ableism means the value system that promotes some people's bodyminds as valuable, worthy, and desirable while by definition dismissing other people's bodyminds as not valuable, not worthy, and not desirable. Disablism means the oppression specifically foisted on disabled, mad, neurodivergent, Deaf, sick, and other divergent and atypically bodyminded people. But I don't think this distinction is super important in everyday conversation, especially since those two phenomena are clearly and obviously related and connected to each other. OK now back to the rest of this post.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><br />Kassiane describes something that is familiar to way too many of us who are autistic <i>and also&nbsp;</i> women, femme, or have at some point or continue to be forcibly (and incorrectly) assumed to be/assigned as female or feminine. How that one offhand comment from another autistic person's mom gave way to years and years of trying to go to autistic meetups and only finding constant sexual harassment even and especially after requests to stop and signals, implicit and very explicit, of not being interested and not being available.<br /><br />At an autistic adult meetup, I once walked in a room and immediately several men locked eyes on me and began moving toward me, each one of them trying to get my attention and start up a conversation immediately, and at least two of them explicitly telling me they were interested in me romantically/sexually by saying they wanted a girlfriend. I don't remember the rest of the questions or what they said; I just remember saying that I was already in a relationship and that we were exclusive. At least one of these people kept asking me about dating him.<br /><br />Another time, a white autistic man I've never met in person and had never spoken to before in any context at all sent me messages through Facebook telling me that his fantasy was to date an autistic Asian female, and that since I was an autistic Asian female, I would be perfect for him. I shouldn't need to explain why this was creepy, inappropriate, racist, and gross for at least a dozen different reasons.<br /><br />I don't go to autistic social meetups anymore, almost ever.<br /><br />When I was in fifth grade, many years before I ever went to any autistic meetups, a group of girls crowded around my desk and told me that they dared me to walk over to another girl and tell her that I thought she was hot. They were giggling as they told me this, and I immediately got the sense that there was something funny going on -- funny to them, of course -- but I thought about it, and I couldn't figure out what it was. I thought that "hot" meant "beautiful" or "pretty," and I did think that that specific girl was pretty. So I couldn't figure out what would be wrong with telling her that I thought she was hot and since they were pushing me to just go and do it, I did. I walked over to this other girl and I told her, "I think you're hot." The girls who dared me to do it burst out laughing. I was immediately embarrassed and I still couldn't figure out why.<br /><br />Later, I don't even think that much later, I figured out that "hot" didn't mean just pretty/beautiful. It specifically meant "sexually attractive." They managed to mock me by getting me to do something they had figured out implicitly I didn't understand because my young, autistic, asexual self would never have figured out without being explicitly told, and then laughing at me. It was supposed to be hilarious (to them) and humiliating (to me) because one girl telling another girl she was hot would make me a lesbian, and therefore give them another reason to mock me.<br /><br />In seventh or eighth grade (I think, maybe a little earlier), someone photoshopped my face onto someone else's face in a photo of another person in our class dancing with someone at a dance. The classmate who wasn't photoshopped was also a disabled student (multiple learning disabilities) who was constantly bullied and harassed by other students. He was the one that my "friends" were talking about in eighth grade when they said that I was a retard because I hung out with other retards. The joke, and why it was supposed to be so humiliating, was probably because both this other person and I were assumed (a) undateable by everyone else, (b) funny, self-sustaining subjects of mockery by existing, and (c) only "fit" for each other, so each of us seen as dancing with the other being seen as an insult and embarrassing to the other of us. (He was my friend. We did dance at another dance much later.)<br /><br />Around fifth through eighth grade, because all these years are really starting to blend together the more I think about it, which may also just be a sign of getting older, there were rumors that I humped the flagpole all the time at recess. Our recess lot was a small paved gravel/tar lot (same type of paved ground that is used for parking lots and streets for cars). In the back of it away from the entry/exit fence gate, was a flagpole in a raised concrete mound. I liked to walk over there and pick my nose because I figured that other people wouldn't really be able to see me picking my nose if I stood at the right angle behind the flagpole. (Yes I'm now admitting something that is arguably actually embarrassing, unlike dancing with a friend and having a crush on a girl.) I figured out pretty quickly that saying I was humping the flagpole was an insult and supposed to be mean and another reason for people to think I was gross and then socially outcast me even more. But I didn't know what humping meant. And as one of many autistic kids who didn't have a whole lot of friends in my peer group, and at that time, was pretty sure that talking to another peer would be instantly dooming myself even more, I walked up to a teacher and I asked her what humping was. (Her response was to stiffen and awkwardly tell me, I think that's something you should ask your parents.)<br /><br />(I didn't even remember the humping rumors until I was in the middle of writing this post, when the memories leaped from some hidden part of my brain to remind me that they had happened. It seems I've blocked out at least some of this stuff.)<br /><br />But I haven't gotten to the worst thing, the thing I'll never forget.<br /><br />I wrote a post more than four years ago <a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2013/02/adoption-and-inappropriate-questions.html">about strangers and acquaintances deciding that it is totally OK to ask me extremely personal and invasive questions related to the fact that I am adopted</a>. (My own feelings and relationship to being an adoptee are more complicated and nuanced than what I wrote about then, but the part about the questions is still true and relevant.)<br /><br />But this has also happened to me about sexuality, twice that I specifically remember.<br /><br />The first time was when I took my driver's education class. Hosted by a well-known driving school, my class had about 20 or 30 students total in it. I didn't know anyone else there. Some of them probably knew each other, since we were all from surrounding towns/cities and it's New England. I don't really know for sure, because I'm faceblind and can't quickly or intuitively figure out how neurotypicals interact without being coached through it. <br /><br />At some point, we went over to a pizza place nearby for lunch. While we were there, a group of maybe around ten or slightly fewer of the other students were sitting around a couple of tables, obviously talking and snickering. One of them asked me, "Do you have a boyfriend?" I said yes, because at the time I was romantically involved in a weird long-distance relationship. Then they asked me a series of other questions.<br /><br />"Have you made out?"<br /><br />"Have you french-kissed?"<br /><br />"Have you had sex?"<br /><br />"Have you done a blow job?"<br /><br />"Have you done anal?"<br /><br />I don't remember all of the specific questions or all of the wording.<br /><br />I just remember feeling confused, embarrassed, and singled out, and I knew even while it was happening that they were doing it to mock me. They were doing it because it was funny for them, and supposed to be embarrassing for me. And even though I knew they were somehow making fun of me in doing this, I couldn't stop answering the questions because even to this day, I struggle with saying no and setting boundaries, but of course it was way worse back then. I couldn't figure out how to <i>not </i>answer their questions in some or another way, so I kept responding and each time I answered one question they asked me another one.<br /><br />The second time it happened, a few months or maybe a year later, there was a horrible déjà vu. I was in my high school, a small private Christian school, in a small room where sometimes a few students would hang out and study. There were only a handful of other people there in the room. But the same questions started.<br /><br />"Do you have a boyfriend?"<br /><br />"Do you have sex?"<br /><br />Almost an exact repeat. I don't remember all of the specific questions or their wording, but I do remember at the time, that the questions were almost or exactly the same as the first time. And just like the first time, I had a gut instinct that I was being made an object of mockery, and that everyone else was in on the joke, and that even though I knew I was being made fun of, I still couldn't shut it down. To the best of my knowledge, the people who did it the second time didn't even know any of the people who did it the first time.<br /><br />None of them may have known that I'm autistic, or maybe all of them did. High school is when I started being a lot more open about it. (It's also when I first got involved in autistic activism and self-advocacy work.) But they had all figured out, whether or not they knew the specific word for what kind of neurodivergent I am, that I was gullible, easily manipulated, and hilarious (for them). They had figured out I wouldn't say no. They had figured out I wouldn't evade or shut it down. They had figured out I wouldn't turn the tables and set the questions on them, let alone give them a verbal smackdown. They had figured out I was socially awkward, socially oblivious, and socially ignorant enough to walk into their trap and lay there. All of those traits are related to being autistic in a neurotypical-dominant world.<br /><br />This is a very specific and particular kind of sexual harassment. I know that now even if at the time all I knew was that I was being mocked without knowing exactly how/why. And while I may not remember the exact questions, wording, or sequence, I'll never forget how I felt so ashamed and exposed in both of those situations, because I felt like I was supposed to both prove that I was sexually knowledgeable/experienced to be socially accepted, and, like any information that I had had any sexual activity at all would also mean I was filthy and gross. (I'm sure plenty of that also had to do with purity culture, since I was raised in an Evangelical Christian church, and once even went to a church retreat with a special day set aside for purity and keeping ourselves pure until our [with Christians, heterosexual, monogamous, child-bearing] marriages. And we were taught that sex wasn't dirty ... but only if it met those requirements.)<br /><br />In my lifetime, I never really got the message that I was expected to be nonsexual and desexualized because I am autistic. (I know many other autistic people do get those messages -- especially if they are nonspeaking and/or have multiple other apparent disabilities.) Instead, I got a series of messages that I was in fact a sexual being, but anything to do with my sexuality was gross and an object of mockery, or, to be used only for really fucked up fetishes for which I could become a fantasy object (but that was much later). I'm willing to bet money that I am not the only autistic person of any gender or sexuality or asexuality to have had this kind of sexual harassment happen to them. It seems particularly targeted to people who are neurodivergent in pretty specific ways, and like it particularly emerged in adolescence -- in high school -- though I'm sure it could and has happened to autistic adults of younger and older ages too.<br /><br />Just in case I wasn't clear, this kind of behavior and sexual interrogation <i>is ableist sexual harassment and ableist bullying</i>, and can probably amount to ableist sexual abuse depending on the circumstances. I can probably think of even more ways in which my a/sexuality was targeted by some or another person or group to be dragged into the open and mocked, but honestly, I'd prefer not to go trawling through memories that it seems like I've blocked out at least some of. My point is that many of us have had extremely varied experiences with all types of sexual harassment and sexual abuse, both the type of abuse that desexualizes disabled people, and the type of abuse that hyper-sexualizes and/or mocks or pities, and some of it can be incredibly disability-specific.<br /><br />Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-88356373904457106922017-04-29T21:29:00.000-04:002017-04-29T22:26:58.208-04:00Ableist bullshit targets nonspeaking autistics/autistics of color. Also, the sky is blue.In Portland, Oregon, <a href="https://goo.gl/RWxmN4">a nonspeaking autistic high school student has just been nominated to attend a prestigious national program at the United Nations</a>, after going through a competitive process in his state. Now, the national program staff have decided that he can't go because he is autistic and have refused to accept him.<br /><br />His name is Niko Boskovic, and he uses a letterboard to communicate, by pointing at each letter to spell his words. The program is the <a href="http://www.unpilgrimage.org/unp_program/unp_pgmoverview.html">Odd Fellows and Rebekahs U.N. Educational Pilgrimage for Youth</a>, which brings youth from across the United States to the U.N. each year. (And they should be ashamed of themselves, and fix this, immediately.)<br /><br />They are refusing to allow Niko to participate because he needs support to communicate. They are calling his mom, who has volunteered to pay out of pocket to travel to provide him communication support, a "chaperone" who is not allowed on the trip. That means that (a) they refuse to recognize her role as a human accommodation (like a reader, a notetaker, a transcriptionist, a personal attendant, or an interpreter serves as a human accommodation);&nbsp;<u>and</u> (b) they believe Niko is incompetent and less than his peers since a "chaperone" would only be there as someone to supervise him. Chaperones at middle school dances supervise the students in futile efforts to prevent "dirty dancing." Chaperones on school buses supervise the students in totally ineffectual efforts to prevent bullying, food throwing, and jumping off the bus (okay, maybe a bit more effectively at that last one). Chaperones of small children supervise the students to make sure they aren't accidentally wandering away from their field trips only to end up lost, hit by cars, or kidnapped. et cetera. That language makes it clear that they believe Niko is less competent and not on equal ground with his peers such that he is trying to bring a "chaperone" to participate.<br /><br />Niko would be planning to bring his mother <i>as a support person</i>, meaning, to provide him with the tools he needs to communicate, participate, and take full advantage of the opportunity. This is horrifying and wrong, and not entirely dissimilar to when organizations like colleges and courts (as they do <i>all the fucking time</i>, for the record) deny d/Deaf and hard of hearing people the right to sign language interpretation (especially tactile for deafblind people) or CART captioning. (Yes, Niko not being able to participate in some educational program sponsored by a fraternal society is not in any universe the same thing as someone being denied interpretation at a hearing that could result in them being <i>locked up indefinitely in jails/prisons that may literally kill them</i>.) But it is, at its core, denying his right to communicate and to reasonable accommodation, and in so doing, demeaning his form of communication and presuming his inherent incompetence.<br /><br />You know what this reminds me of? My study abroad experience <u>when I was in college</u> and older than Niko currently is.<br /><br />Firstly, the staff member in the college's study abroad office insisted, in the most patronizing tone ever, that I should disclose to my professors immediately once abroad, not because of a specific cultural difference related to disability, but because I "just ... seem different" and that "it's obvious that you're different in any classroom." (Saying the word "different" in a tone of voice that sounded a lot like, "not normal and therefore maybe scary, unpredictable, or otherwise uncomfortable for other people to be around.")<br /><br />Then, the external program's staff demanded to schedule a meeting with me on very short notice (right before Thanksgiving break), so they could question whether or not I would be "safe." They were worried I would not be "safe" because of details about my disabilities that I did not consent to be disclosed to them and that were not included in my file with the disability services office (meaning they only got those details by creepily looking me up online, again, without my consent).<br /><br />Note also that at the time I was planning to study abroad, I had a cumulative GPA below the required 3.0 to receive approval from the university to do study abroad. I was also a declared major in a department that required its undergrad majors to study abroad in order to graduate. So I had one part of the university telling me I was not allowed to study abroad based solely on my grades (which were undoubtedly impacted by all sorts of ableism and insufficiently or not-at-all accommodated disability), and another part of the university telling me I had to study abroad or else I couldn't graduate.<br /><br />And when I finally went and got separate special approval to go do it, I got hit with a double whammy super extra special dose of ableism, in the form of questioning whether or not it would be feasible or safe for me to participate in a program, and reminding me that unless I can pass for neurotypical to other people's standards (which apparently, despite all the hate mail I get deriding me for being "high functioning/mild/not really disabled" and thus unable to talk about disability, I don't), I "just seem different" (and meaning it with all the possible negative attitudes attached to the term).<br /><br />Niko Boskovic deserves better. He went through the process to compete, and even knowing he is autistic and uses a letterboard, the Oregon chapter supported him and endorsed his nomination. The only reason the national program has denied his nomination and rejected him as a delegate is because of his disability. And that's ableist as fuck.<br /><br />***<br /><br />I also want to note that while I haven't been blogging a whole lot in the past few years, the other thing that's been nagging in my craw lately has been the recent news coverage of several autistic students in Florida -- one Filipinx, one Black, and one white -- subjected to appalling punishment and even arrest and police force as a means of control and compliance training, in response to their existing while autistic. Their names, respectively, are <a href="https://goo.gl/PfIEMI">Seraph Isaac Jones</a>&nbsp;(check that link for a fundraiser to help Seraph and family cover a neuropsych evaluation that could help him in fighting the awful fucking school), <a href="https://goo.gl/xebUxF">Ashton Gelfand</a>, and <a href="https://goo.gl/fLIhYX">John Benjamin Haygood</a>.<br /><br />That's the same state, by the way, where <a href="https://goo.gl/W0A4st">Arnaldo Eliud Rios-Soto</a>, a Latinx autistic adult, was involuntarily committed and then confined indefinitely in <a href="https://goo.gl/NKFoIG">a long-term residential institution operated by a for-profit corporation with a decades-long history of abuse and neglect of disabled residents in multiple states</a> ... that being&nbsp;<i><a href="https://goo.gl/gV8GX9">after nearly being killed and witnessing police (thankfully nonfatally) shoot Charles Kinsey, a Black man and a behavioral therapist working at Arnaldo's former group home</a></i>.<br /><br />The same state where Reginald Cornelius Latson (better known as Neli), a Black autistic adult, has also been confined, indefinitely, in the very same institution as Arnaldo ... after suffering solitary confinement and other abuse <i>for years </i>in Virginia prisons stemming from his arrest after police were called because he existed in public while Black and autistic waiting for a library to open. (That's after the governor's "conditional pardon" by the way.)<br /><br /><i>What strikes me about all of this ableist violence in/near schools and similar environments, is how ordinary it is.&nbsp;</i><br /><br />In the past several years, I've met and talked to hundreds, if not potentially thousands, of autistic and other disabled people. Almost every single one of us has survived at least one (and usually) multiple traumas, often beginning with family of origin or the school system, or both. Just from my friends and people I interact with regularly, I bear witness constantly to the devastating impact of ableist schools, ableist doctors, ableist police, ableist social workers, ableist bureaucrats, ableist families, ableist neighbors, ableist bosses ... on the literal physical and mental health of disabled people, especially those whose experiences lie at the intersections of disability, race, gender, class, and sexuality.<i>&nbsp;</i><br /><br />Intersected disabled people are dying. <a href="https://goo.gl/eITa8m">Intersected disabled people need material help now</a>. Intersected disabled people are surviving the violence of exclusion, rejection, and isolation every day.<br /><br />I'm glad these stories are receiving attention in news media, but to those of us without the same privilege and power, it's not news. We've always already been living this violence, and it needs to stop.Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-12386935723921138292017-01-06T10:43:00.001-05:002017-01-06T11:19:03.943-05:00Racism, Ableism, and Much-Needed Reminders on Chicago Torture Case<i>Content/tw: mentions and brief descriptions of sexual violence, torture, racism and specifically anti-Black racism, ableism</i><br /><i><br /></i><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.thefeministwire.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/intersectionality.png" height="216" width="400" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>photo: a set of six street signs that say, Racism, Sexism, Heterosexism, Classism, Colonialism, Ableism. in the middle is a green banner that says Intersectionality, which is a term coined by a Black woman scholar,&nbsp;Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw.</i></div><br />(1) The vast majority of everything I've said here, other people have been saying also (even if in different words/language), including and *especially* Black Disabled people. Like Cyrée Jarelle Johnson and <a href="https://goo.gl/bCZyFe">Mrs. Kerima Çevik at Intersected</a>. Listen to them. Follow them. Amplify their voices.<br /><br />(2)&nbsp;What happened to this young white disabled person in Chicago -- his name is Austin Hilbourn, according to some sources -- was wrong. (For those who somehow missed the news, four people tied up a disabled person and beat him, cut off parts of his scalp, and taunted him, while livestreaming it to Facebook.)<br /><br />(3) This attack was deeply ableist.<br /><br />(4) The four people who targeted the disabled victim knew him from their school. That means it is highly likely that they knew Austin is disabled, even if they didn't know anything specific about what kind of disabilities he has. As a former disabled high school kid, trust me, everyone can peg the disabled kids. It also means they very likely targeted him because they knew he is disabled and therefore vulnerable and easy to attack.<br /><br />(5) This type of ableist violence is NOTHING new. The reality for disabled people is that our entire lives are often marked with violence and abuse -- violence that is extremely more likely, more deadly, more brutal, and more erased when the victims are disabled AND marginalized, targeted, or oppressed in other ways. The statistics are horrifying. Anywhere between 83% and upwards of mid-90's-something percent of developmentally disabled "women" (people designated that way by researchers) are raped at least once in their lifetimes, and somewhere upwards of half of that number at least 10 times by the age of 18. Somewhere between half to 70% of all people killed by police are disabled, making Black Disabled or Indigenous Disabled people the most likely to be targeted in police killings. The numbers go on and on and on. They are appalling not just because of what they are but also because they attach to real people's lives and repeated, compounded trauma. Violence against disabled people is SO FUCKING ORDINARY and so often dismissed in the icky approach of "omg who would ever hurt a disabled person?! so horrible!" as though it never happens when in reality it happens all the time.<br /><br />(6) The only new things in this instance, that are being sensationalized wildly by the media, are that the attackers, who are Black, yelled at the victim, "Fuck Trump supporters" and "Fuck white people." Prosecutors have charged the attackers with a hate crime. Because of these facts, (white) media has decided that this is a case that must be about anti-white racism.<br /><br />(7) Anti-white racism does not exist. Racism is not just individual bias or prejudice; it's a system of power relations in white supremacy where racial bias and prejudice are backed by claims about science, political institutions, and social/cultural/economic structures.<br /><br />(8) Obviously the attackers are *prejudiced* against white people. No one aware of the known facts here could possibly think otherwise. But again, (a) prejudice is not the same as racism, which requires an entire system/history/structure of devaluing people (not) in a racial group; and (b) it should be pretty fucking obvious why four young Black people might be prejudiced against white people given how violent and pervasive in all parts of society white supremacy continues to be.<br /><br />(9) We know Austin is white. We have no idea whether or not he is a Trump supporter, or could even vote and if he could, whether or not he voted for Trump. Anyway, it doesn't matter whether he voted for Trump or not. This kind of violence is not okay no matter who it targets. It is wrong. It is fucked up. And as someone who is extremely anti-Trump myself (which should be obvious to anyone who follows this page), it's additionally fucked up that the attackers did this in the name of resisting Trump.<br /><br />(10) BTW, even the police have said they believe the victim was targeted for being disabled, not for being white. Though, to be clear, even if he was targeted for being white, (a) he was also targeted equally for being disabled, and (b) it still doesn't mean the attackers are reverse racist; it means they're prejudiced against white people, and ableist assholes to boot.<br /><br />(11) Yes folks should be outraged that this happens. Feel outraged that the attackers did this. Feel outraged that the prosecutor described them as kids who made mistakes but shouldn't have their lives ruined over them. But where was your similar level of outrage every single damn time Black Disabled people are tortured, abused, raped, and murdered? Whether by caregivers, teachers, the police, or strangers? And where the violence is *clearly* tied to disability, to race, and often the entanglement of the two? And where similar words are spoken -- that they're good kids / good parents / good teachers / good officers, who made mistakes / snapped / lost it -- those words result in zero accountability? Where is your outrage for Korryn Gaines? Tanisha Anderson? Kajieme Powell? Melissa Stoddard? Terrance Coleman? Kayleb Moon-Robinson? Neli Latson? The young Black Disabled person who was brutally and viciously raped by several white football players, all of whom have gotten off scott-free for their attack? And many, many others?<br /><br />(12) The four attackers in this case will most definitely end up in prison, with severe charges, and spend significant amount of time locked up, with hate crimes charges. The vast majority of white people who torture, abuse, rape, or murder Black Disabled people will not.<br /><br />(13) White folks trying to call this the "BLMKidnapping" (Black Lives Matter kidnapping, for those unfamiliar with the acronym) are completely missing that (a) the attackers never once invoked Black Lives Matter as a movement; (b) even if they claim to be supporters of it, didn't do something Black Lives Matter actually advocates for; and (c) when white people commit obviously racist crimes, like the attack on a historically Black church in Charleston, it's not blamed on every white person nor are all white people expected to take responsibility and apologize or be publicly excoriated in the media.<br /><br />(14) The rush to associate this attack with the Black Lives Matter movement, along with vicious and dehumanizing comments about the attackers -- like calling them monsters, calling for horrible things to be done to them, etc. -- calls to mind the lynch mobs that in a frenzy, would round up young Black people to publicly and brutally murder them in retaliation for crimes they supposedly (and maybe in some cases, actually) committed, while celebrating their violence. These rhetorical responses are racist as fuck.<br /><br />(15) The attackers did something horrific and wrong. Perhaps unforgivable. The victim will have to live for the rest of his life with the trauma of not only the abuse itself but of having his torture livestreamed for the world to witness at the hands of his own classmates, people he probably saw on some consistent basis even if he did not really know them well or personally. He might never fully recover from what happened in some senses of the word. Undoubtedly, he won't receive disability culturally competent trauma-informed care. The attackers have done this. But in no way can or should caring and committed people attempt to turn this around and add to the racist shitshow by basically calling for the public spectacle of humiliation and violence against the Black attackers either.<br /><br />(16) I don't believe in relying on police or prisons to promote "justice," so I'm not going to be calling for these four people to go to prison, because I'm deeply uncomfortable with the idea that prison/punishment must be the only possible solution. HOWEVER, these clear and undeniable disparities in how these cases are talked about by media and treated by police, prosecutors, and courts, provide more evidence of how UNJUST the in-justice system is in handling hate crimes against multiply-oppressed people in particular.<br /><br />(17) Remember, ableism and racism and part and parcel with one another. White supremacy depends on ableism to further its eugenic mission -- of deciding which people are valuable, worthy, and desirable, which people are functional, healthy, normal, and fit. The victim in this case is not just any white person -- this person is someone whom white supremacy would also reject as not the best standard of whiteness, e.g., ability. Stop talking about this case if you cannot understand one basic fact -- disability justice requires racial justice. Disability justice requires the end of white supremacy. Black and Disabled communities are not separate entities that must now be pitted against each other; they overlap in deep and intricate ways, and Black Disabled artists, scholars, activists, organizers, and community and cultural workers have already been working for decades or longer at the intersections. Folks like Leroy F. Moore, Jr., and Patricia Berne, and Talila (TL) Lewis, and Jazzie Collins, La Mesha Irizarry, and Brad Lomax, and as far back as Harriet Tubman, alongside many, many, many others. They understand/understood these truths because they live them in ways that I, as a disabled east asian person of color, still don't, because of how our experiences against racism differ profoundly.<br /><br />(18) The latest events in Chicago have got me shaken up and enraged and devastated, because not only has a fellow disabled person been subject to appalling ableist violence, but that very same violence has already become an excuse for virulent and violent anti-Black racism that will inevitably target my Black Deaf, Mad, and Disabled comrades the most -- and unless those with relatively more privilege and power keep speaking and keep amplifying their work and their voices, they will be the only ones left defending their humanity and right to exist.Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-87289310917533564482016-12-17T13:48:00.000-05:002016-12-17T13:59:52.345-05:00I don't trust allies and I'm not sorry.<i>Content/TW: Graphic descriptions of severe workplace bullying and abuse of an autistic person for being autistic.</i><br /><i><br /></i>In February 2013, New York City Councilman Vincent J. Gentile released&nbsp;<a href="http://goo.gl/6nuWB">a public letter and press release</a>&nbsp;demanding the return of the 120 New York residents who were locked up in the&nbsp;<a href="https://autistichoya.net/judge-rotenberg-center/">Judge Rotenberg Center</a>&nbsp;torture hellhole&nbsp;at the time. At the time, Gentile described JRC varying (and accurately) as a “barbaric facility,” “an institution which subjects its students to these cruel and unusual forms of ‘behavior modification,’” and “[an institution] in gross violation of the most fundamental standards of humane treatment of people with disabilities.”<br /><br />One year later, Michael Bistreich began work as Gentile's Legislative and Budget Director. Michael is autistic, like many of the people formerly and currently in the JRC. He was forced to resign in June 2016 after being demoted and losing a raise for fabricated reasons, two and a half years after beginning work, after his co-workers, supervisor, and Gentile himself spent almost the entire time abusing him.<br /><i><br /></i><img src="http://media.nbcnewyork.com/images/652*367/BYFIELD+CITY+COUNCILMAN+AIDE+ABUSE+LAWSUIT+BK+PKG+530++-+000006.jpg" height="360" width="640" /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo: Michael Bistreich (who seems white or white passing), sitting on a couch with his hand on his emotional support bunny.&nbsp;</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Among other things <a href="https://goo.gl/5WeSbm">reported</a> in <a href="https://goo.gl/4Pzt3j">various</a> news <a href="https://goo.gl/44iYZm">sources</a> reporting on the lawsuit he's just filed, the chief of staff once locked Michael in a basement; the councilman repeatedly asked him if he could look into “upping your medications” to stop “twitching”&nbsp;because “you annoy me” and “when you twitch like that, it's annoying to people;” Gentile laughed openly at another employee's joke that they should “test the doors” in case Michael would “elope;” and staff coordinated a mass decapitation of his stuffed animals (teddy bears) that he kept on his desk for comfort (the ones he told his fellow co-workers he “identified with and emotionally valued”), even impaling one's head on a flagpole and “a stuffed animal dog that was gutted and impaled and had red coloring around its slit stomach, mouth and eyes to resemble blood”&nbsp;-- which left Michael in the conference room for an hour in shock and horror.<br /><br />(Because, you know, stimming is such an <i>inconvenience </i>and source of <i>discomfort </i>for <i>non-disabled people</i>. So abusing someone to force them to stop stimming is totally okay. Not like you're expressing open opposition to an autistic person's right to exist as autistic or anything.)<br /><br />Bullying and abuse don't stop with middle school’s merciful end. And they are absolutely not limited to the people who publicly express hateful opinions about disabled people (or autistic people specifically), but in fact, are at least, if not more, common and pervasive among people who are supposedly “allies” to autistic people. What Gentile did, allowed, and approved of is horrific and fucked up beyond all reason, but what stands out to me is the juxtaposition of his apparent advocacy on behalf of disabled New Yorkers trapped and tortured in the JRC with his abuse of his own employee. The people put out there as “allies” are <i>so, so, so </i>often the first and most likely people to be the most abusive and violent toward autistic people. whether that's <a href="http://disability-memorial.org/">the parents and other relatives who murder their autistic (and other disabled) family members</a>, or the well-documented abuse/assaults targeting prominent autistic activist <a href="http://timetolisten.blogspot.com/">Kassiane Sibley</a>, or the special education teachers or therapists responsible for violent restraints and seclusion behind closed classroom or institution doors.<br /><br />I don't trust nondisabled, non-autistic people who claim to be allies, because Vincent Gentile is an elected official who spoke publicly and of his own volition against the evil that is JRC because of its inhumane treatment of disabled people, while simultaneously being an extremely abusive boss who preyed on his openly autistic employee just because he could, and did so with malice and deliberate knowledge about his victim's neurology, using autism as a means to target him.<br /><br />(Another aspect to the bullying and abuse is undoubtedly the fact that Michael is not only autistic, but also seems fat based on the pictures posted online of him, and anyone who is perceived as fat is so incredibly likely to end up on the receiving end of abuse and brazen mockery. I noticed this trend in multiple school settings where the kids who were both disabled and fat got hit with a special kind of bullying that the thin disabled kids, like me, didn't.)<br /><br />Vincent Gentile is clearly a hypocrite, but he is absolutely not some extraordinary exception or a standout example of a workplace abuser or disability advocate/ally hypocrite. Almost every autistic person I know who has ever had jobs has stories and stories of workplace bullying, harassment, abuse, and ostracism. Almost every disabled activist, advocate, or organizer I know has heaps of stories of nondisabled “advocates/allies” who routinely talk over, dismiss, and attack actually disabled people (and yes, I most definitely also mean physically, or with threats of physical attack). I have plenty of these stories too. And what's the worst about reading shit like this is the reminder that some absurd number of people I know <i>right now </i>are dealing with similar ableist, fucked-up bullshit in their own workplaces when they're lucky/privileged enough to get a job, and that no amount of fancy degrees or professional clothes or affected intellectual speech or, whatever, can disguise someone's otherness (from any marginalized identity/experience) to a professional predator.<br /><br />If you're one of those nondisabled advocate/ally people, and you wonder why autistic and other disabled folks are so angry or bitter or resentful, or so quick to judge, just take a gander at Vincent Gentile. He's a perfect example of very well-placed distrust, because we've witnessed it over and over again, that the people most likely to twist the rusty, serrated knife in the back are the ones who profess most publicly to be our allies. I don't trust allies and I'm not sorry.Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-69957341077457855742016-10-25T17:46:00.003-04:002016-11-03T14:47:46.341-04:00Disability Justice & Conference Space: Notes on Radical Access & Radical Inclusion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="graphic that says, No Prisons, No Institutions, Free Our People! against an image of prison walls, with www.autistichoya.com at the bottom" border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ud5EiaziCg8/WA_GFDgSafI/AAAAAAAAHGQ/KhItk_aJWjwTT8tncUoMs7KppZgKmls4gCLcB/s1600/No%2Bprisons.png" /></imageanchor></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Image: Graphic that says, No Prisons, No Institutions, Free Our People! against an image of prison walls, with www.autistichoya.com at the bottom.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></div><div><div>Over the past few days, longtime Black disabled advocate Mrs. Kerima&nbsp;Çevik (who is also the parent of Mustafa&nbsp;Çevik, a multiracial Black nonspeaking autistic young person) has posted several statuses to her activist Facebook page on the issue of conferences, class privilege, and inaccessibility. (She's also the force behind blogs&nbsp;<a href="http://theautismwars.blogspot.com/">The Autism Wars</a>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<a href="http://intersecteddisability.blogspot.com/">Intersected Disability</a>, and featured in this fantastic&nbsp;<a href="http://poormagazine.org/node/5510">interview by Black disabled activist/artist Leroy F. Moore, Jr.</a>&nbsp;at POOR Magazine. I strongly recommend following her pages for unapologetic commentary on racism and ableism, especially how they intersect in disability "rights" and "advocacy" spaces.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm including the full quotes of Mrs. Çevik's words (with her permission) because I cannot possibly do them justice through an inevitably inadequate attempt to summarize –&nbsp;and because my response, in dialogue, depends on understanding what she is saying here:&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><blockquote class="tr_bq">1 in 3 disabled people live in poverty. Be aware that if a disabled person has the means to participate in a conference they have privilege their peers in poverty do not. It is the season of nonprofit galas, balls, and annual conferences. &nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">Know your privilege. &nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">Try not to flaunt elaborate meals before your food insecure peers. Try not to boast about your travels before those who can never hope to do so. Try to find more inclusive solutions to traditional conferences and other events that will equalize participation for more disabled people across income levels. &nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">Our peers include people with clinical depression. Try to be thoughtful of them.<br />Anything less than that is not a a triumph it is advertising for the few and the flaunting of privilege.&nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">Peace.</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>Mrs. Kerima&nbsp;Çevik</i>,&nbsp;<i><a href="https://www.facebook.com/kerima.cevik.3/posts/1299664993417295">23 October 2016&nbsp;</a></i></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: center;"><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">I'm going to explain this one more time because as a disabled woman with privilege living in Washington D.C., I have access to every gala and local conference being held by every national nonprofit headquartered here and I am only limited by my financial means and my local network.<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">If you are able to travel to conferences and participate in them you have privilege. Period. That includes you, Leroy Moore, as much as I respect you.<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">1. I also have privilege. I was not born into poverty and anyone of color not born into poverty who enters a state of poverty with any education whatsoever is upwardly mobile because they are equipped with information generationally poor people are not. They know, for example, that the water in their Baltimore neighborhood should not be given to their children because it is most likely lead contaminated. They know to scrimp for paint because their houses probably contain lead paint. They know that they will need to risk going hungry to pay the rent needed to live in a safer neighborhood with public transportation to get to a better work life or they risk a shorter lifespan. I know these things. They give me a survival advantage over peers who may be in poverty. They give me the confidence I can leave an impoverished state because I was not born in a culture of poverty.<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">2. The only traveling poor in this country save every penny to gain transportation autonomy and we call them migrant workers. If you have a background and educational advantage that gained you the knowledge you needed to understand what you had to do to budget and travel despite your income level and participating in conferences gives you an economic advantage, even if that advantage is a long term one you have privilege.<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">3. If the poor could travel, Freddie Gray would not have died being accosted by police near the same mall where TaNehisi Coates grew up. The reason Freddie Gray is dead and TaNehisi Coates is not is because he was given educational advantage and chose to apply it. The minute he entered Howard University he gained privilege and a network. If the poor could travel despite their poverty, they would migrate to where seasonal work was, and inner cities, the legacies of federal transportation policies and redlining, would not be the location of generational, intractable, poverty.<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;"><i>Mrs. Kerima&nbsp;Çevik</i>,&nbsp;<i><a href="https://www.facebook.com/kerima.cevik.3/posts/1300485946668533">24 October 2016&nbsp;</a></i></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: center;"><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">People are making my call for understanding of their impoverished peers when we are about to enter a season of excess into another thing altogether. I am startled at the number of people not willing to understand their own privilege.&nbsp;<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">People who are poor and white make the same mistake. We should all know better. Privilege is not related to being poor. It is not a matter of the many things people have sacrificed to get themselves to conferences and events.<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">People without privilege have no such choices. There is no thought of conferences or anything of that nature. They are in survival mode.<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">As my initial call for not flaunting the excesses of the holiday season before those we may not be aware are suffering gets lost in people declaring the individual sacrifices they make to attend conferences, galas, retreats and other community events, I return to my point and stand by it.<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">Conferences will continue to be exclusive until the entire community has equal access and equal support. Individual sacrifices notwithstanding, conference participation is a privilege not a right. I won't cease saying so until someone finds a way to pipe an entire conference into every institution, prison, group home, and bridge under which disabled people are forced to reside.<span style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;"><i>Mrs. Kerima&nbsp;Çevik</i>,&nbsp;<i><a href="https://www.facebook.com/kerima.cevik.3/posts/1300641629986298">24 October 2016</a></i><i style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</i></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div><br /></div><div>Everyone, including myself, who has commented in all these threads has an element of class, linguistic, and education privilege (even if lacking money/wealth, or formal or elite education, or fluency in English or written speech, we can still have class, education, and linguistic privilege that allows us to know what conferences are, how to get to them, and how to communicate over the internet). But we also in all likelihood have what&nbsp;<a href="http://www.talilalewis.com/">Talila Lewis (TL)</a>&nbsp;calls freedom privilege – we're not incarcerated (or we probably would not be able to post on Facebook). This is a natural corollary to Mrs. Çevik's call to bring conference space into institutions, prisons, group homes, and bridges. Until we are all free, no space (including conferences) is actually meaningfully accessible or inclusive.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's where I want to push back on Mrs. Çevik's conclusion though –&nbsp;if everything literally cannot be accessible to literally everyone, then what does it mean to be radically accessible or radically inclusive? I talk about multimodal access/participation as an ideal and an imperative for our practice and community-building, because that means&nbsp;<i>maximizing&nbsp;</i>who can participate and engage with what –&nbsp;the ideal, and grandest, most just vision being everyone having access to things like community and kinship and intimacy and education and joy.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But what that looks like may be different and come in multiple (and infinitely variated) forms.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>For example, for some autistic folks who are (a) not photosensitive epileptic and (b) sensory seeking in a particular way, strobe lights and disco balls might be extreme sensory joy. Obviously, those are also inaccessible for many (for a variety of reasons) and outright dangerous or life-threatening for others. So does that mean no parties may ever exist with strobes or disco balls, even behind closed-doors (and no windows spilling the flashing lights outside) and with explicit warning on all invitations and on signs or audio announcements outside the building? (Assuming an enormous amount of money availability for this imaginary party, here.)&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Another example: Someone who is deathly afraid of dogs (has an actual phobia) and someone who relies on their dog as their service animal may not be able to exist in the same small group in-person activity, all else being equal. That doesn't mean that either of them deserve to be shut out or excluded, or that one of them should be prioritized over the other. But it is obvious that a space currently occupied by several people who rely on their service dogs is not actually an accessible space for the person with the phobia of dogs, even though it is a very accessible space (all other considerations aside) for the people with various disabilities who rely on their service dogs.<br /><br />Another example: No matter how much work so-called radical folks might put into creating "safe" space, such as through avoiding scents/fragrances, banning flash photography, giving content notes and trigger warnings for a variety of commonly triggering content, intentionally not engaging in body or diet talk, avoiding microaggressions of any kind, and so forth, there is always a very real possibility (and it frequently happens) that someone will still experience a trigger or retraumatization because others simply didn't know and couldn't possibly have guessed (without knowing that person very well personally, which they might happen to not) that something specific would be triggering and retraumatizing. The ignorance (literally, not knowing) of the other people in the space in no way diminishes or mitigates the actual harm caused by the retraumatization, nor does ignorance excuse harm caused. But it demonstrates that even with the most conscious and intentional intersectional organizing, there are always things that may not be accounted for or possible to account for.<br /><br />Another example: Many autistic people (especially autistic people who don't also have what are commonly called cognitive/intellectual disabilities) who are literate strongly prefer to communicate over text – text message, instant messaging/online chat, email, or text-based social media – sometimes even when in the same physical space, and even when the same people can communicate using spoken speech. Many people with cognitive/intellectual disabilities (whether or not they are also autistic) who use spoken speech strongly prefer to communicate using the phone or in face-to-face meetings. So for the first group of people, conference calls can be difficult at best, or completely inaccessible at worst. For the second group of people, long email chains or Facebook threads (or this blog itself) become difficult at best, or completely inaccessible at worst.<br /><br />I don't think that the answer or goal we're looking for should be that literally every space/activity/program/style of communicating or connecting is actually fully accessible and completely safe to every single person, because that's&nbsp;<i>actually not possible</i>, as illustrated in the examples above (and there are many more possible examples to draw on). It's what I call an asymptoptic standard (but the kind that ought to be a moral and justice imperative for us, rather than the kind that we ought to toss out, like the asymptotic standard of "whiteness" for people of color as the goal in white supremacy). In geometry, an asymptote is the imaginary line that a curve will come infinitely close to touching but never actually intersect.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>What this reality calls for is opening up our imagination to dream up more spaces and more methods of connecting and building in-person and online and other means of communicating and being with each other. It's not that conferences are inherently bad or wrong (or that it is wrong or bad to participate), but that conferences, in their current design and in the current world, are inaccessible on multiple (often intersecting) levels, especially class, as Mrs. Çevik calls us to keep in mind. But even in a future world where we magically eradicated poverty and granted everyone (accounting for multiple disabilities and other currently oppressed identities and experiences) the same or equitable amount of resources (including money, transit access, time, and energy), conferences are still going to be (a) the desired, or at least enjoyable and useful, format for some people for connecting and sharing information/ideas, and simultaneously (b) not a format other people enjoy or can fully participate in (or participate in at all) for other disability-related reasons (say, someone's social anxiety, or the length of time someone else can focus, or yet someone else's current lack of ability to cope with trauma in new and unfamiliar situations and discomfort with trying).</div><div><br /></div><div>To be clear: I'm not advocating against making everything more accessible and more radically inclusive. To the contrary,&nbsp;<b>I believe we have a moral imperative to make all our spaces as maximally accessible and inclusive as possible, and to aim constantly for total/full accessibility and inclusion as our goal</b>. I also believe that expecting perfection – totally safe spaces, spaces that are equally and fully accessible for every single person's possible access needs, etc. – is actually not possible (again, see conflicting access needs). Disability Justice as a framework and imperative allows us to acknowledge and work within imperfections and limitations. Not to accept exclusion or inaccessibility, but to recognize that conflicting access needs are real, that even the safest of spaces can still retraumatize people, that every single type of program or activity or space or way of connecting/communicating is not ideal or desirable for every person, that every single person has capacity to harm, to be ignorant, to fuck up, etc. (especially when we remember how much class privilege, ability privilege, education privilege, and linguistic privilege it requires to use whatever is current activist terminology and to keep doing it consistently).<br /><br />Aim for infinite arrays of ways to communicate and connect. Aim for multiple tactics, multiple venues, multiple spaces, multiple programs – not to segregate or exclude by design, but to maximize opportunity and equity for actual participation and engagement by all people, on our own terms.<br /><br />At the&nbsp;<a href="http://www.disabledstudentsdc.org/">Washington Metro Disabled Students Collective</a>, we tried to account for the reality of multiple conflicting access needs, class needs, and such in planning our events. We knew that some sick and disabled folks primarily want spaces to be social with each other, without the pressure or expectation to talk about activism specifically or directly, but to be around other people who get it, who get us, and who understand where we're coming from, and to do so with an intersectional consciousness (i.e. recognizing and being accountable around different power dynamics in a space). We also knew that other sick and disabled folks primarily want spaces to do activism and organizing with each other, to talk specifically and directly about activism and disability politics within an intersectional framework steeped in disability justice. And of course, that many of us want access to both.<br /><br />We also knew that some people who wanted to be part of our spaces work, and what that looks like is quite diverse – from folks who have the 9 to 5 office jobs, to folks who work in shifts, either day shifts or night shifts, weekdays or weekends, and sometimes multiple jobs. That some folks have childcare or other caregiving responsibilities. That some folks are well versed in disability justice language and other folks have never been (or are unable) to consistently use social justice terms and vocabulary. That some folks find it easy to use public transit, that some folks drive and rely on access to their own car, that some folks don't have ready access to any kind of transportation. That weekend events would work great for some people's schedules and spoon levels, but weekday events would work better for others, or weeknight events for still others, and that these groups were sometimes mutually exclusive. That these considerations are intricately wrapped up with race, class, gender, and disability – that, for example, as an often feminine-perceived person, I'm at greater risk for sexual harassment in a social space; that as a light-colored East Asian person, I'm at far less risk for police violence at a protest; that as a person with a college education, I'm far more privileged in ability to have conversations with certain types of language and knowledge assumed.<br /><br />Instead of trying to create an event that would somehow magically accommodate all of these sometimes exclusive and competing access needs – all valid and legitimate needs that still created tensions in considering how to maximize access and inclusion – we created a model of multiple kinds of events. Sometimes we did things on weeknights, sometimes on weekdays/midday, sometimes on weekends. Sometimes we had explicitly social gathering events, and sometimes we had explicitly political activism forums/events. The idea was not that everyone would be able to go to everything (even assuming freedom and a minimal level of class privilege) but that as many people as possible would be able to at least go to something of a kind they would enjoy and that would minimize the impact on their spoons.<br /><br />This is not a perfect model by any stretch of the imagination (and of course still relies and assumes certain types of privilege), but it is the kind of work I am deeply invested in creating and developing further.<br /><br />I have always held that as a person who simultaneously experiences several layers of oppression&nbsp;<i>and&nbsp;</i>several layers of immense privilege, it is an immense and necessary responsibility for those with any kind of privilege to use that privilege in a way that is accountable to our comrades, neighbors, and community members who do not have the same privilege.<br /><br />In contrast to Mrs. Çevik's exhortation not to share photographs from conferences or restaurants that evidence privilege simply by existing, I would suggest instead taking a harm reduction approach. By all means, share conference and food photographs as evidence of joy and connection – joy and connection that oppressed folks desperately need when existing in a world that is often literally trying to kill us – but do so in a way that prevents them from being shoved involuntarily into the faces of our fellow folks who might be further depressed, anxious, or retraumatized from exposure to them. Organize conferences and social gatherings and academic panels, but do so in ways that challenge the traditional conference model (especially entrance fees, expensive cities, or transit-inaccessible rural locations) and proactively create mechanisms to maximize access/inclusion for as many people as possible who would like to go but currently cannot. (And don't do it merely as an "accommodation" for some of "those people." Completely upend fee structures and prioritize paying multiply marginalized folks for their time, energy, and labor, and getting people to these spaces – which many find emotionally powerful and revitalizing – who usually can't go or who have never been able to go, ever.)<br /><br />Yes, it is absolutely a privilege to be able to go to a restaurant or a conference (even if someone else is paying, even if you made huge sacrifices to get there, even if you experience a multitude of oppressions), but that doesn't mean we can't talk about being in these spaces – just that we have a responsibility to minimize the likelihood of harm we might cause in how and where we talk about it,&nbsp;<i>and&nbsp;</i>a responsibility to use that privilege to change and minimize the inaccessibility and exclusion inherent to conference spaces. Spaces are imperfect and inherently limited in their ability to be accessible, but we should always, always strive for maximal participation, maximal engagement, maximal access, maximal inclusion. Honoring all of our bodies requires diverse tactics, diverse spaces, and diverse communication and connection methods – outside and in challenge to the ableist, racist, classist implications of capitalist structures.<br /><br />And we've got to keep fighting (with a multitude of tactics, and in a multitude of forums and venues) for liberation and freedom for all of our people. When we all get free, then we will actually be able to maximize the accessibility of these conference spaces (spaces where people sharing an interest or passion can gather to learn from each other and form or strengthen connections) to the fullest extent a conference can become radically accessible and inclusive. When we all get free, then we will actually be able to say truthfully that we are all&nbsp;<i>free to get to these spaces</i>.<br /><br />No more prisons. No more institutions. Tear down these walls, and free our people.<br /><br />***<br /><br />Mrs. Kerima&nbsp;Çevik wrote a response to this blog post, published on 30 October 2016, at&nbsp;<a href="http://kerimacevik.blogspot.com/2016/10/about-autistic-hoyas-post-on-disability.html">About Autistic Hoya's Post On Disability Justice &amp; Conference Space</a>. I responded to her response, but not on this blog.</div></div>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-51492777192734428012016-07-25T23:40:00.003-04:002016-07-25T23:40:58.919-04:00Ableism is not "bad words." It's violence.<i>Content/TW: Somewhat graphic discussion of violent attack on disabled people; discussion of S.V. (rape).</i><br /><i><br /></i><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Ableism is not "bad words." It's violence.</span></b></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kaodHV3IBAU/V5bXdAOng8I/AAAAAAAAGc0/svAnBGTDOWEPKh3tSglRFtIJOf3pSbNnACLcB/s1600/Sagamihara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kaodHV3IBAU/V5bXdAOng8I/AAAAAAAAGc0/svAnBGTDOWEPKh3tSglRFtIJOf3pSbNnACLcB/s640/Sagamihara.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo:&nbsp;A police officer outside the facility, speaking to onlookers, in this photo taken by Kyodo on 26 July 2016.&nbsp;</i></div><br />Earlier today, a former employee of a residential institution in Sagamihara, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan, for disabled people (from children through elders), many people with significant disabilities and multiply-disabled folks, attacked residents with a knife, murdering 19 people and wounding 25 people.<br /><br />The Sagamihara attacker was targeting the disabled residents of the institution.<br /><br />He told police, "I want to get rid of the disabled from this world."<br /><br />Don't you ever fucking dare try to say, "but who could hate the disabled?" to me again.<br /><br />Don't. Dare.<br /><br />We are not some innocent angels untouched by the realities of the world around us.<br /><br />We are not unaware or oblivious to the existence of others, let alone of hate.<br /><br />We know hate and we know violence, because it is written on our bodies and our souls.<br /><br />We bear it, heavy, wherever we go. Ableism is the violence in the clinic, in the waiting room, in the social welfare lines, in the classroom, in the recess yard, in the bedroom, in the prisons, in the streets. Ableism is the violence (and threat of violence) we live with each day.<br /><br />Ableism is the constant apologetics for family members and caregivers who murder their disabled relatives -- they must have had it <i>so hard</i>, it must have been <i>such a burden</i>, you <i>musn't judge unless you've walked in their shoes</i>. (In the last few decades, more than 400 disabled people were murdered by relatives or caregivers, and those are only the stories we know about.)<br /><br />Ableism is the fact that a police officer who shot an unarmed Black man with his hands up decided it made more sense to claim he was actually aiming for the Brown autistic man holding a toy truck beside the Black man.<br /><br />Ableism is the fact that the left wants to talk about jails and prisons as the largest mental health care providers in the country, decry the crisis of incarceration of psych disabled people, and then suggest unironically that we build new facilities, new asylums, new institutions, new inpatient beds so that at least we can get "treatment."<br /><br />Ableism is the fact that queer, trans, and asexual people fight so hard against medical neglect and abuse that in the rush to end pathologization of queerness, transness, and asexuality, we insist on distinguishing ourselves from anyone who is <i>really </i>mentally ill, saying that there's nothing wrong with <i>us </i>because&nbsp;we aren't <i>those people</i>, so at least <i>we </i>don't need medical and psychiatric surveillance, gatekeeping, and control (only they do).&nbsp;<br /><br />Ableism is the fact that when violence <i>does </i>happen to disabled people, it's framed as inherently more tragic and pitiable because we are supposed to be these innocent fucking angels, like babies (no matter how old we are), and it's particularly low to attack <i>us </i>(but apparently not to attack non-disabled transgender people or non-disabled Black people or non-disabled Muslims or non-disabled women -- all of that is totally okay and justifiable and besides, it must have been the victim's fault in some way).<br /><br />Ableism is the fact that of developmentally disabled people categorized as women, anywhere from 83% to 90% will be sexually assaulted at least once in our lifetimes and on average at least ten times by the age of 18; the estimate for those categorized as men is almost 40%; all of these are likely severely underreported. Ableism is also the fact that when we do receive sex education, it often assumes that masturbation is the only "safe" option, and that anyone having sexual contact with a disabled person is automatically a fetishist or a predator or both. Rather than being about consent and autonomy, it's about "protecting us" or "keeping us safe" but where's the talk of victim blaming?<br /><br />Ableism is the fact that anywhere from around 40% to 70% of U.S. prisoners are also disabled, and that the forces of white supremacy, racism, and capitalism that keep poor Black and Brown people in prisons are necessarily intertwined with ableist presuppositions about intelligence and emotional capacity. (And that all incarcerated people -- disabled or not -- as well as many free disabled people can be paid, completely legally, only a few cents per hour for menial labor, and that this is called <i>opportunity </i>and <i>teaching work ethic</i>.)<br /><br />Ableism is the fact that it is totally legal to torture disabled people in the name of treatment and help and "for your own good" -- everywhere from the daily ABA torture sessions focused on normalization at the expense of our own mental health to the extremes of the Judge Rotenberg Center where we are shocked even for flapping or moving out of our seats.<br /><br />Ableism is the fact that too many of my friends and online acquaintances are literally facing death, starvation, family separation, severe physical danger, denial of life-saving medical care, and other catastrophes right now, as I type these words, because they are disabled in a capitalist, racist world that does not want us to survive in it.<br /><br />Ableism is the fact that on average, autistic people die 30 years younger than non-autistic people, with suicide as the second leading cause of death. As one friend put it, that's an act of murder by society, because it is <i>so bad </i>that too many of us decide that it is no longer worth trying to live in a world literally designed to destroy us from the moment we are first born.<br /><br />They hate us, and we already know it. They aim for us. They mean to kill. They mean to harm. They know what they are doing, and we know it too. There can be no innocence, not for us. Ableism is not some arbitrary list of "bad words," as much as language is a tool of oppression. Ableism is violence, and it kills.<br /><br />Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-84730906703173647072016-04-24T19:24:00.001-04:002016-04-25T00:37:25.063-04:00Georgetown makes progress on disability, but continues to fail.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BvXRdANob1w/Vx2OMDZ6s3I/AAAAAAAAEQI/lUkutxBujWYfhwPb6EhyX8NuKWCZquKRwCLcB/s1600/chalkboard%2Bableism.jpg" /></imageanchor></div><i>Photo: Chalkboard with text that says, "Uncovering Institutional Ableism at Georgetown."</i><br /><br />I've been out of Georgetown for almost a full year now, but while a student, I spent a lot of time agitating around the rampant ableism pervasive everywhere from classrooms and news coverage to the student services infrastructure and everyday social life.<br /><div><br /></div><div>In October 2015, Georgetown brought in two external consultants with PhDs to conduct an audit/review of the Academic Resource Center, which among other things (student-athlete support and general academic support), is responsible for disabled students on campus. They completed and submitted their report in January 2016, identifying multiple systemic issues with the ARC, though in my opinion, the report could have been far more damaging than it already is (and which is no doubt the reason Student Affairs is refusing to provide the full version outside its division). Even the disability working group within the administration seems to have only received the three-page executive summary but not the full report.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Earlier,&nbsp;<i>The Hoya&nbsp;</i>published&nbsp;<a href="http://www.thehoya.com/arc-weaknesses-revealed/">an article on this report</a>, quoting choice bits of it, but did not publish the actual document, which was a disappointment. Their editors, however, <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/make-audits-public/">published an op-ed asking the university to make public the results of audits like the one spurring this report</a>, so I have to assume that Georgetown's administration stepped in to prevent <i>The Hoya </i>from publishing the full report (or at least I have to wonder whether this was the case -- certainly seems questionable).&nbsp;So as an alumn who isn't currently beholden in any way to the university, I've taken the liberty myself of making the full 14-page report available to the public, both <a href="https://autistichoya.files.wordpress.com/2016/04/arc-report-january-2016.pdf">the copy I obtained</a> and a complete text-accessible transcription (typos and all) on this page (below the text of this post).&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>The public, and particularly, the Georgetown community and anyone disabled considering going to Georgetown or accepting a job offer there, should know about this fucking bullshit -- and more that didn't make it into the report, either because it was outside the scope, was omitted, or was unknown to the reviewers.<br /><br />This report identified issues with all three areas that the ARC is responsible for -- support for disabled students, support for student-athletes, and general academic support. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>This report identifies numerous issues, including this lovely tidbit about the ARC's office horrifically and ironically being inaccessible to wheelchair-users (because that makes 100% sense for the office serving disabled students. okay.):&nbsp;</div><blockquote class="tr_bq">Across all stakeholders, the ARC's space, located in the Leavey Center, was described as inadequate, embarrassing, and deplorable. The students underscored the problems from a user's perspective.&nbsp;The ARC is not wheelchair friendly which is disconcerting since it is the location of disability services for students.</blockquote><div>Not to mention the signage issue (discussed in the report) -- there's also an old sign pointing to the old location of disability services behind Darnall, which, that's not where the ARC is now or has been for many, many years. (And until a couple years ago when I pointed it out publicly, the Braille sign for the LGBTQ Resource Center was literally posted above the doorframe, because, didn't you know, all blind people are eight feet tall.)<br /><br />And this great description of the testing accommodations room ("great" here meaning "any adjective that would never ordinarily be associated with the term 'great'"):&nbsp;</div><div><blockquote class="tr_bq">The room for accommodated testing, located on a different floor of the Leavey Center, can only accommodate nine students. Its location as separate from the ARC is problematic in that the ability to proctor exams is limited. Additionally, staff cannot fit in the room to observe and there is no technology to provide oversight. The room was described as a "former closet" and "claustrophobic." It lacks ventilation, becoming unpleasantly warm. Noise from the hallway contradicts the accommodation of a "distraction reduced setting."</blockquote></div><div>The report even offers lengthy comment on the ARC's complete inadequacy in supporting student athletes (two staff -- one only for the women's basketball team, and the other responsible, in theory, essentially for the rest of the over 800 total student-athletes), which is also impressive (not in a good way) given the typical trend of universities spending disproportionate amounts of funding on anything athletic. The associate director responsible for most student athletes admitted that she resorts to text-messaging students instead of arranging face-to-face meetings because of the ridiculously overwhelming caseload.<br /><br />The report notes severe understaffing across all three domains, which, if rectified, will also necessitate a move to a different space (and hopefully one that is actually physically accessible, though ideally, every space on campus would be physically accessible...). Note the literal devaluing of disabled students -- it's cool to spend $50 million on this brand new varsity athletic training facility, but why bother hiring more staff for disabled student support services? Let alone opening a Disability Cultural Center (which would cost far, far less to get off the ground).<br /><br />Disturbingly, however, in making the important point that international students, low-income students, first-generation students, and other nontraditional students could benefit greatly from specific academic support resources, the report's authors claim that there is a disproportionate focus on disabled students and student-athletes.<br /><br />Can we stop playing oppression olympics for maybe one half minute? Firstly, disabled students (and apparently student-atheletes), are <i>currently </i>being fucked over by a profoundly ableist campus community (in addition to the infrastructure issues discussed in this report) and are <i>completely not a priority at all. </i>Secondly, can we just <i>not </i>pit ourselves against each other? What about disabled international students, or first-generation and low-income students, or disabled low-income students, or disabled and first-generation nontraditional students? The struggles and experiences can not only overlap but can also blend.<br /><br />Yes, let's bring in specialized staff to support international students, non-traditional students, first-generation students, and low-income students, alongside staff for disabled students and student athletes.<br /><br />But stop talking about these completely underserved and nonexistent areas as though we have to be in competition with each other. That's what ablenormative, white supremacist capitalism wants -- competition with each other for limited resources instead of collective, intersectional organizing to benefit everyone currently marginalized by the way things are.<br /><br />Another disturbing finding in the report -- that virtually everyone interviewed during the two-day review (side note: that is SUCH AN INSUFFICIENT AMOUNT OF TIME TO THOROUGHLY REVIEW HOW MUCH GEORGETOWN SUCKS ON DISABILITY) cited Jane Holahan and the ARC as the campus experts on disability. Yeah, let's all defer to the office that <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/a-silent-campus/">consistently denied a deaf student access to interpretation for anything outside classes</a>, and <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/disability-compliance-draws-scrutiny/">denied a blind student access to brailled materials</a>. Because that makes <i>perfect </i>sense.<br /><br />(In theory, yes, the ARC should be a central resource on disability issues, but given its current systematic problems, I adamantly oppose centralizing disability-related functions and internal technical assistance there. The ARC doesn't work with the disability studies faculty, the National Center for Cultural Competence led by the fantastic Tawara Goode, or the Center for Child and Human Development -- a federally-designated University Center for Excellence in Developmental Disabilities. That's understandable to an extent -- faculty who do disability studies related work are focused on scholarship of disability theory; the NCCC and CCHD are primarily focused on cutting-edge research and policy development outside the university gates. But all of that only underscores the need for a Disability Cultural Center with full-time staff to serve as a central nexus for all things disability-related.)<br /><br />For the same reason, the report's recommendation to train resident advisors, faculty, advising deans, and others who might interact with disabled students is great -- except where it recommends that ARC be responsible for that training. I don't trust them as far as I can throw them, and considering I'm a small human with little upper body strength, that's a no. Yes, do training on ableism and disability and how not to be a douchebag working with disabled students. But bring in people who not only know what they're doing but who aren't already embedded in the university and thus beholden to it (and likely unwilling to be critical at all, especially when critical is what is desperately needed).<br /><br />In 2002, almost fifteen years ago, <a href="http://georgetownvoice.com/2002/11/07/disabled-students-seek-changes/">disabled students complained about inaccessibility</a> at Georgetown, and Holahan responded then that change takes time. In 2008, <a href="http://georgetownvoice.com/2008/01/24/pluralism-in-action/">physically disabled students</a> and <a href="http://georgetownvoice.com/2008/02/14/cura-personalis-in-reverse-overdrive/">learning disabled students</a> met with Holahan and the ARC again over inaccessibility and pervasive ableist attitudes in the classroom, only to receive the same non-response -- that the university is doing its best and that change takes time. In 2014, the university convened a working group ostensibly on "disability as a social justice issue," that interestingly, originally excluded me from the announcement about its inception and first meeting even though I held an official position on disability within the student government at the time. That working group released its own report last summer, which frustratingly also fails to articulate many important concerns or offer concrete timetables for its recommendations. <br /><br />All of that history to say, the Academic Resource Center external review report is a great start, but it doesn't go nearly far enough.<br /><br />Where is the talk of the school's <a href="http://georgetownvoice.com/2013/11/14/quiet-crisis-mental-health-georgetown/">tendency to pressure students with psych disabilities to leave</a>? Or the talk of the school's <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/progress-is-slow-on-disability-access/">continued physical inaccessibility</a>, as dissected <a href="http://goo.gl/mKsWH9">in an article published <i>this week</i></a>, which will be undoubtedly <a href="http://georgetownvoice.com/2014/10/23/construction-illuminates-accessibility-issues-on-campus/">exacerbated by the continuing construction</a> everywhere? When will&nbsp;<a href="http://georgetownvoice.com/2014/02/27/sign-times-story-deaf-students-georgetown/">d/Deaf students on campus</a>&nbsp;have full access to all aspects of campus life? When will Georgetown begin offering courses on American Sign Language, to complement the weekly classes offered by student organization GU Signs? What about <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/conquering-ableism-1.2996811#.USe5g2e87tg">the pervasive institutionalized ableism in general</a>&nbsp;and <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/disabled-students-struggle-continues/">the long history of ableism overall</a>? When will <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/disability-course-cluster-established/">the disability studies course cluster</a> lead to an actual minor in disability studies and the recruitment of additional disabled faculty, especially faculty of color? When will the administration commit to <a href="http://georgetownvoice.com/2015/03/05/browns-proposal-for-the-establishment-of-a-disability-cultural-center-gains-momentum/">a plan for a Disability Cultural Center</a>?<br /><br />Will any of these <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/5-steps-to-fight-ableism-at-georgetown/">five steps toward ending ableism at Georgetown</a>&nbsp;that I wrote about in November 2014 actually happen? There's progress on two of them: GUSA and Student Affairs now have <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/disability-support-receives-funding/">a central pool of funding</a> to cover ASL interpretation and CART captioning at campus events outside academic classes, and in the fall, Georgetown brought on <a href="http://www.thehoya.com/gu-hires-first-access-coordinator/">its first access coordinator</a> within Student Engagement to oversee use of those funds and implementation of accommodations outside the housing and classroom contexts. (Side note: I'm excited they hired a woman of color into the position, but dismayed that they hired someone who previously had zero experience doing disability work of any kind.) But the other three? As far as anyone can determine, nothing.<br /><br />This report is a wonderful start, but it is far, far from over.<br /><br />Georgetown, as a disabled alumn and activist, it's well past time to get your shit together. Do better. Your disabled students at a minimum deserve to be at a campus that treats them like human beings, and right now, that doesn't seem to be the case for way too many of us. You now have the opportunity to start making things right, so the next cohort of students with disabilities might have a better experience than the folks I know who were literally driven out of your university because of the institutional ableism or the folks I know who right now are scared to tell their fellow students or co-workers about their disabilities for fear of retaliation.<br /><br />The idea that Georgetown values <i>cura personalis</i>, the whole person, will remain absurd until the university makes a sustained commitment to dismantle ableism throughout the campus culture. Right now, I'm rather unwilling to believe that anything significant will change simply because this report exists somewhere internally. I'll be waiting to find out whether you'll actually act upon not only the recommendations in this report, but also the many, many other areas of total failure (and sometimes plain old mediocrity) on disability. I believe in actions, folks. It's great the external audit happened. Why keep the results quiet unless they're <i>that </i>embarrassing? And if the university is truly concerned or embarrassed, then you'd better get a move on breaking out of the pattern of reluctant appeasement and complacency.<br /><br />I'm waiting.&nbsp;</div><div><div><br /></div><div>***</div><div><br /></div><div>You can download or save&nbsp;<a href="https://autistichoya.files.wordpress.com/2016/04/arc-report-january-2016.pdf">the full report in PDF</a>&nbsp;(not text-accessible).&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Since the PDF is ironically inaccessible, I have transcribed the following text-accessible version of the full report, attempting to preserve as much of the original formatting as possible as well.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>***</i></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Georgetown Academic Resource Center External Review</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Review held: October 28-30, 2015</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Report submitted; January, 2016</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><b>Executive Summary</b></div><div><br /></div><div>The Academic Resource Center (ARC) is a department within the Division of Student Affairs which is responsible for providing academic support for all students with a special focus on supports for student athletes and supports for students with disabilities. The reviewers were charged with identifying the specific strengths of the department and suggesting areas for improvement, consistent with the mission of the division and Georgetown University.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>On October 28 – 30, the reviewers met with the staff of the ARC, colleagues within the division of student affairs, faculty and advising deans, the Disability Working Group, students, and other University partners including legal counsel. The reviewers concluded that the mission and vision of the department are in line with different respective fields and yet are not well integrated in an overall structure. Moreover, the resources and structure of the office are not consistent with best practice and indeed could pose a risk to the University regarding its limited ability to provide for legal and ethical accommodations for students with disabilities. Descriptions of the programs, services, policies and procedures of the ARC are not consistently communicated to students, staff and faculty. This can lead to confusion and lack of outreach to those who would benefit from the expertise of the ARC. We have outlined the strengths and challenges of the department and presented a number of recommendations.</div><div><br /></div><div><u>Strengths:</u></div><div><u><br /></u></div><div><div><ul><li>The department mission and connections to the University mission actualizes the Jesuit philosophy in its approach to provide specific, caring comprehensive support for a diversity of needs in a context of promoting academic excellence.&nbsp;</li><li>The dedicated and experienced staff are well respected by all stakeholders including students.&nbsp;</li><li>There is connection and strong collaboration within the student development division colleagues, academic advising deans, office of diversity and equity and University Counsel’s office.&nbsp;</li><li>The disability working group is caring and knowledgeable concerning individuals with disabilities.&nbsp;</li><li>The students recognize that they are receiving adequate supports and they respect and value the ARC staff and yet they also see the necessity for improvement of ARC resources.&nbsp;</li></ul></div><div style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></div></div><div><u>Challenges:</u></div><div><ul><li>Inadequate staffing has stretched a dedicated leader who does not have the time to structure the department and provide adequate supervision to the associate directors and other staff.&nbsp;</li><li>The limited number of ARC staff has created a minimal ability to serve the populations it professes to support.&nbsp;</li><li>Space is inadequate in size and function, misaligned and leads to separation of services and isolation of some students.&nbsp;</li><li>Technology is not being used to address basic efficiencies including data collection, scheduling, administrative procedures, and assistive technology.&nbsp;</li><li>The department branding does not clearly articulate the populations it serves on the website; publications are outdated. There is a need for a recognizable icon that includes the multi-pronged focus of the ARC. Indeed, even the Division of Student Affairs end of year report for 2013-2014 depicts the ARC with the handicapped icon, representing only 1/3 of its focus and a fraction of that population.&nbsp;</li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div><u>Recommendations:</u></div><div><u><br /></u></div><div>The reviewers are making recommendations in the following categories which are detailed within this report.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><ul><li><b>Increasing staff and revising current staff positions&nbsp;</b>New positions needed include a Learning Strategies Specialist for Students with Disabilities; a Learning Strategies Specialist for the diverse undergraduate and graduate student populations; an Accommodations Coordinator; and an additional Academic Counselor for athletes. Additionally, several graduate students should be permanently budgeted. Revised positions include the current Associate Director for Student Disability Services and the current Disability / Learning Skills Advisor.&nbsp;</li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div><ul><li><b>Space and Location&nbsp;</b>We are recommending relocating the Academic Resource Center to an accessible and well-traveled setting that includes enough offices to comfortably house ARC staff, student spaces, program areas, conference room and administrative areas. Recommendations include a Testing Center within the relocated ARC (or very close by) and the creation and installation of appropriate directional signage to the ARC’s current and future locations.&nbsp;</li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div><ul><li><b>Technology&nbsp;</b>We are recommending technology and technological support to increase administrative efficiency, data collection, record-keeping, and monitoring of student-athletes progress. Increased technology should also include current assistive technology.&nbsp;</li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><ul><li><b>Policies and Procedures&nbsp;</b>Our recommendations include consistent branding of the ARC with consideration of all the populations that it serves, outreach efforts to normalize academic support, education for instructors and all university staff working with students with disabilities, and the improvement of procedures for hiring tutors. We recommend the creation of a liaison system to the ARC and also a committee to investigate the accessibility of institutional websites.&nbsp;</li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div>These recommendations are intended to be comprehensive and consistent with best practices. Other highly selective universities (e.g. University of Pennsylvania, Harvard University) have or are increasing academic support services for all students, including students with disabilities. Nearby American University’s <i>Academic Support and Access Center</i>, with similar responsibilities and comparable enrollment, has a staff of 19 individuals.&nbsp;</div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">***********************************</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Introduction</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Academic Resources Center (ARC), established at Georgetown University in 2003-2004, brought together learning support, disability services, and tutoring. Support for athletes was added at a later date. The current Director, Jane Holahan, assumed her position during Academic Year 1998, before the ARC's current configuration. Currently, the ARC's mission includes both disability and academic support services, with a particular focus on academic support for student athletes. The ARC is described on its website as "[providing] students with the tools and support needed for academic success" and divides these supports into three categories: Disability Support; Student-Athlete Support; Academic Support. These areas of responsibility, also highlighted in the <i>Division of Student Affairs end of year report, 2013-2014</i>, are mission central for a university that is committed to supporting its students, especially students who may be most in need of academic support programs and services.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As a Jesuit institution, Georgetown is committed to an education that helps students integrate their intellectual experiences with their lived experiences. The education takes into account the whole person and actively engages students with considering how their learning can be used for the greater good of our world. the ARC helps students ensure that they are able to grasp the intellectual offerings of the University by providing academic accommodations for those with disabilities, support and monitoring for those who are athletes, and general academic strengthening opportunities for those who need additional academic support. In the case of each population, there is an attempt to reinforce their identity development as scholars whose specific needs may require a specific academic approach. This provision of services specific to the needs is consistent with an Ignatian approach of meeting students where they are, and helping them to be open to improvement not only for themselves, but for others.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The ARC is one office within the Division of Student Affairs which is responsible for addressing the developmental needs of students. This review is designed to describe the specific strengths of the department and to suggest areas for improvement, consistent with the mission of the division and the University. The Vice President of Student Affairs and the Associate Dean have requested a review with a list of recommendations to impove the services and ultimately the experience of students at Georgetown University.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The following individuals were invited to provide this external review and submit this report:&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Dr. Sheilah Shaw Horton has been the Vice President for Student Development at Loyola University of Maryland since 2011. She came to Loyola after a 25 year career at Boston College. In both universities she has overseen the provision of services for academic support for student athletes as well as supports for students with disabilities. Dr. Horton has a Ph.D. and a Masters' Degree in Counseling Psychology from Boston College and has taught in the department of Counseling Psychology.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Dr. Myrna Cohen is the Executive Director of the University of Pennsylvania's Weingarten Learning Resources Center. In this capacity, she directs academic support programs and services for all of Penn undergraduate, graduate, and professional students and oversees the University's Office of Student Disabilities Services. Dr. Cohen is also on the senior staff of Penn's College of Arts and Sciences and Adjunct Associate Professor of Education at Penn's Graduate School of Education. She received her Ph.D. in Education from the University of Pennsylvania in 1992.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Support for Students with Disabilities</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Federal law, trends, and the ARC</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">Following national trends, the number of students with disabilities at Georgetown University has risen dramatically. In 1998, there were less than 200 students registered with the disability support office. This number grew to 660 students by February, 2015, an increase of over 200%. They have also noted a significant increase in students as a result of the growth in the School of Continuing Studies, including online at the undergraduate and graduate level. The numbers reflect a growing public awareness of disabilities, as well as the increased availability of federally mandated services in high schools for students with disabilities. Highly qualified high school students, accustomed to appropriate services and accommodations are attending postsecondary institutions with the expectation that the university will provide a continuation of appropriate services and accommodations. At Georgetown University, it is the responsibility of the ARC to provide services and programs that support the legal mandate for its students with learning, physical, and psychological disabilities and ADHD. This responsibility is significant since failure to address legal requirements can result in the institution's loss of federal funding. The Rehabilitation Act and the ADA prohibit discrimination against people with disabilities by institutions like Georgetown University that receive or benefit from federal financial assistance. These laws require that reasonable accommodatinos be provided to otherwise qualified students with a disability so that they have access to the same education and programmatic opportunities as their non-disabled peers. Both the Office of Civil Rights and the Department of Jutsice are charged with insuring that institutions adhere to these mandates. Moreover, there is a "greater ethical imperative to ensure that accommodations for differently-abled students are crafted responsibly and implemented with the utmost respect and dignity." (NASPA, 2015) An overview of the laws can be found on the website of the office of Civil Rights at http://www2.ed.gov/about/offices/list/ocr/disabilityoverview.html</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The passing of the ADA Amendments Act in 2008 has made it "easier for an individual seeking protection under the ADA to establish that he or she has a disability." (NASPA, 2015) The direct effect on postsecondary institutions has been an increase in self-identifying students, more documentation to consider, additional accommodations to determine and, ultimately, to actualize. The effect on the number of exams to be accommodated is exponential. Additionally, the students and needs have become more complex. Nationally and locally, both the number of students with psychological disabilities and students with chronic health conditions have realized the greatest increases. Often, these students require the closest consideration for appropriate accommodations and the greatest amount of time to collaborate with offices and colleagues throughout campus as well as external experts and parents.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">There are additional demands on student disability offices that fall under the responsibility of the ARC. These demands are making an impact on staff time and the need to update their areas of expertise. For example, students with temporary conditions (e.g. broken dominant hand, concussion) require the support, time, and resources of the ARC. There is an increase in graduate students with disabilities. These are students who have received services and accommodation in their undergraduate schools and expect continuation. Students with disabilities taking online classes present additional challenges to the need to provide web-based access. On the rise are students requiring housing and dining accommodations. Last year 132 students requested medical housing. In addition to living spaces that accommodate physical disabilities, there are more requests for medical singles, or carpet free and/or air conditioned spaces for students with allergies. Legal changes affect the definitions for service animals and comfort animals and students are increasingly requesting these accommodations. In order to consider student requests, ARC staff must also understand how the Fair Housing Act and Housing and Urban Development (HUD) Section 504 apply. These changes, in turn, increase the need to collaborate with other campus offices and the time to thoughtfully consider documentation.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>A closer look at Georgetown University and disability issues</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">There is an impressive awareness of disability issues by some Georgetown University administrators. The Disability Working Group is a source of collective information positioned to inform the University and the ARC. Georgetown's students with disabilities are an articulate and appreciative group who can provide the thoughtful user perspective. University health insurance covers the costs of, at least, some of disability testing. Dr. Holahan and the ARC were consistently cited by all stakeholders as the campus experts on disability issues, laws, and support for students. This praise was uniformly accompanied by awareness that the staff and resources were challenged by the increasing demands. This sometimes led to reluctance to contribute to this imbalance with yet another question or request. We were told that "we worry about so much work for one small office." However, this concern is counter-productive to the support of students and education of the University's staff and faculty.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The ARC's location and lack of space (addressed in more detail later in this report) was another repeated concern throughout the two day review. Beyond the problematic physical setting of the ARC, there are additional accessibility concerns. There is a lack of campus signage to direct current and prospective students and visitors, especially those using a wheelchair or crutches, to the disability office in The Leavey Center. Current construction further complicates directed travel and there does not appear to be additional guidance around construction for individuals with disabilities. Finally, understanding the ARC's resources on the University's website is as difficult as finding its physical office location since its main webpage lacks the department's name as its headline and clear articulation of its three-pronged student focus.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The imbalance that exists between legitimate demands on services and the resources to meet those needs inevitably leads to unintended neglect. We heard concerning scenarioes of student situations, including the experience of a deaf student who could not access a campus event that did not have an interpreter. Faculty are often unaware of policy and students have been in the uncomfortable position of educating their educators. Concern about Georgetown's support for its students with disabilities was summed by one adminitsrator, "At a university that prides itself on excellence, we are just meeting compliance." In February 2015, a report was written by the director that outlined similar concerns and recommended staff adjustments. Our recommendations build upon and expand this proposal.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Recommendations for support for students with disabilities includes the following:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1) Increase the staff and refine &nbsp;current positions in order to meet federal guidelines and the ethical obligations to provide access and support for students with disabilities so they can participate in the same postsecondary experience as their non-disabled peers.&nbsp;</div><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">Refine the current responsibilities of the <b>Associate Director for Student Disability Services</b> who should focus solely on the coordination of services for students with temporary conditions, chronic health, and physical disabilities, including sensory impairments and mobility-related disabilities. In addition to individual work with students, this position should consult and coordinate with Housing, Dining, Student Health Services, and Event Planning. Moreover, this individual would coordinate all accommodations for deaf students, including Gallaudet students taking courses at Georgetown University.&nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;"><i>Rationale:</i> These responsibilities are among the most time consuming and include areas of current and anticipated growth. This position would provide time for <b>the Director</b> to supervise a very complex work environment, set policies, stay current on legal changes, and represent the ARC throughout campus. Both the Director and Associate Director for Student Disability Services could (and should) continue to work directly with students because this is one of their strengths and also to keep their pulse on student challenges and issues.&nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">Presently, the Director is working 12 hour days to fulfill the needs of the ARC. We heard repeatedly that the ARC is "understaffed" and that the workload is "staggering." An additional concern in that the Director is a wealth of institutional knowledge, but there is no succession plan built into the organization of the ARC.&nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">Hire a <b>Learning Strategies Specialist for Students with Disabilities</b> to provide individual appointments, programming, and online workshops on university relevant skills such as academic reading, writing, time management, and study strategies for students with disabilities based on the students' documentation and their expressed academic needs. These responsibilities are currently being only partially filled by the Associate Director.</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;"><i>Rationale:</i> Learning support will include instruction on academic skills and study strategies that can increase independence and self-sufficiency. Comprehensive support goes beyond legal requirements to support the whole student within the academic and extracurricular settings. Presently, the ARC staff can provide some of this support, but we heard that it was often "rushed" and not always available. This is clearly due to demand, not the skill set of the ARC staff.</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">Hire an <b>Accommodations Coordinator</b> to schedule, coordinate, and oversee the increased number of accommodated exams, special technology needed in the exam situations, note-taker accommodations, and e-text oversight.</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;"><i>Rationale:</i> These tasks have become the responsibility of the Coordinator of Administrative Services whose primary responsibility is the management of the ARC, including scheduling services and programs and the multitude of support needed for this complex office. It is clear that the ARC needs a full-time individual in each of these positions.</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">Hire <b>Graduate Students</b> with experience and interest to assist with learning support, facilitation of workshops, tutor training, and coordination of exams during peak exam periods. These positions should be permanently build into the budget, rather than accessed during time of staff vacancies.</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;"><i>Rationale:</i> With training and support, graduate students can contribute additional energy and ideas, as well as instructional assistance. This staffing structure also supports graduate education and promotes interest in a field sorely in need of future leaders.</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">In addition:<br />Revise the position of <b>Disability / Learning Skills Advisor</b> to full-time at the town campus to better support the growing number of students with disabilities, adult learners and online courses that are associated with that campus. Specific time should be allocated for meeting and connecting with ARC staff on the main campus.</blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2) Provide education and training for faculty, teaching assistants, resident advisors and others who work directly with students with disabilities. While it is difficult to require faculty education, this should be a clear mandate from Georgetown Administration. Faculty should be encouraged to include syllabus statements that describe the ARC as the resource for students with disabilities and the location for academic support for all students.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Rationale:</i> We learned from students that they were often in the uncomfortable position of educating their instructors. Faculty should be aware of legal requirements and University policies and procedures for supporting students with disabilities. Through programming and print and web-based materials, faculty must be made aware of the ARC as the central department for the self-identification of students with disabilities and the determination of accommodations. This will insure a consistent process as reqiured by law. They should also be provided with information on correct terminology to replace language that is offensive to students with disabilities (e.g. "wheelchair bound").</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">3) Provide signage that directs prospective and current students and visitors to the ARC, with clear indication that it is the location of disability services. Within the Leavey Center (or future location), provide directional signs to the ARC.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">4) Provide the ARC with a database to coordinate scheduling of appointments and accommodated exams, as well as a notes system to track accommodations and a student's activity record with the ARC. The volume of accommodations and the flexibility and planning required to implement these accommodations can be managed better with an online service and it also will improve student accountability for requesting accommodations. The ARC staff has requested "Clockwork" which may fulfill some, if not all, of these recommendations. Provide technology for administrative efficiency and contemporary methods of communication. Presently, letters to faculty informing of a student's disability accommodations are presented to them by students on carbon copied paper.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">5) Develop a liaison system with representation from key academic undergraduate and graduate programs.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Rationale:</i> This is necessary in order to strengthen ties with individuals who are advising students, to inform departments and programs of law, policy and procedures, and to offer consultation support. This is already done informally, but not consistently. The liaisons should meet, as a group, at least once a semester with ARC administration.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">6) Convene a committee, including the ARC Director, to investigate the accessibility of institutional websites, courseware, and online course materials.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Rationale:</i> More course and research material is available through online print resources and video. Also, there has been an increase in online courses. The OCR, DOJ and advocacy organizations such as the National Federation of the Blind are scrutinizing these resources to insure that they are accessible for individuals with a variety of disabilities. Again, it is also the ethical obligation to make educational materials available to all.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Services for Student Athletes</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Student Athletes have a unique experience at universities in that their identity as athletes is comparable to their identity as scholars. Their time commitment to the sport is essential to their existence in college and they are expected to deliver on the field, courts and facilities as well as in the classroom. Their personal experiences, history, family challenges, etc. mirror the complexity of the student body. In general, research and literature on the student athlete experience suggest that academic support and counseling must also take into account the involvement of coaches, compliance officers, trainers, teammates and others who are intimately involved in the daily life of student athletes. Communication between all the parties, ongoing monitoring of students to identify academic needs, referrals to the counseling center, wellness programs, leadership and career development and general academic support are all essential components of an effective student athlete support network. A recent review of academic support programs by Navarro and Malvaso (2015) suggest that student athlete development is best approached by an integrative approach where student athlete programs co-exist with other services such as the approach at Georgetown supporting the overall student engagement. Placed within an academic support office in the division of student affairs seems to be consistent with best practice for an objective holistic approach, as outlined by Navarro and Malvaso.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">At Georgetown, there are 27 athletic teams encompassing 846 varsity student athletes which is approximately 10% of the overall student population. The staff who support these students are housed within the ARC and includes an Associate Director, Shelly Habel and an Academic Coordinator for Women's Basketball, Adam Polacek. Within the Athletics Department there is an Assistant Director for student athlete development who manages the NCAA expectations for wellness programs and other compliance issues as well as all matters related to Men's basketball. Study halls are run by coaches.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While the ideal situation would be for all student athletes to find an array of services at the ARC to nurture their student athlete experience, the reality is that simply ensuring that all 700 students remain in academic compliance is a challenge due to this limited staffing structure. The one associate director is responsible for meeting with students to discuss their academic needs, coordinating of proctoring exams for 25 teams when students travel as well as providing academic monitoring for students. The overview outlined by Shelly Habel describes the array of services provided and the challenges the office has in trying to meet the growing complexity of demands. A minimum of all first year student athletes should have close communication but this is not possible. Currently, coaches have recommended that 120 first year students, as well as 39 students who are on probation meet regularly with Shelly. Due to the sheer number of students under her purview, she can only monitor those who are previously identified as at risk. While she would prefer personal interaction, she has had to use text messaging in lieu of face to face meetings in order to be more efficient and expeditious with students. Progress reports are not consistently sent to faculty of all sports, only those for students who are at risk. The inability to outreach to all faculty limits the support and promotion that the majority of student athletes need. A minimum of all first year student athletes should have some check in with their faculty; however, this is not possible with the current structure. Overall, it is questionable whether Shelly's approach to supporting students via text and engaging primarily with those who are at risk is consistent with a Jesuit approach of cura personalis. Indeed, it is a minimalist approach in order to manage the large volume of students and their complex needs.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The tutorial support provided to student athletes is coordinated by the ARC staff however they are challenged due to limitations on tutors in a variety of subjects. We heard of the process taking several weeks to hire student tutors, limiting the ideal academic impact on the student athletes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The academic coordinator for Women's Basketball is focused entirely on this one team, often traveling with the team to proctor exams and offer academic support. All of his time is focused on the success of the women's basketball team and therefore he is unable to offer any additional support to other sports. The men's basketball team advisor reports to Athletics. Several of the community members suggested that this sends mixed messages regarding the academic focus of these two teams. The value of a focused approach is individualized attention for the students on these highly visible teams. The challenge however, is that they are isolated and may not be receiving the holistic Georgetown education if they are so limited in their scope.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The NCAA required Life Skills program, which includes programming on the five pillars of academic excellence, athletic excellence, personal development, career development and community service is coordinated through the Athletics department. While this ensures student athlete participation, the student affairs departments who specialized in these life skills and in particular the ARC are not integrated with the programming. Georgetown's goal of providing a quality education may be limited when the life skills programming and academic support are not aligned as students learn best when they are able to experience the connections between the various aspects of their college experience.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Despite the limited staffing, the department has been successful with helping students maintain academic compliance. Shelly reported that the numbers of student athletes in a given year who find themselves ineligible are very low (less than 5 per year) with the exception of basketball. Further, she indicated that one third of student athletes make the Dean's list and several teams have an overall g.p.a. of 3.4 or above. Adam indicated that 5 women's basketball players had a 3.0 last year and received Big East All Academic Honors. Priority registration for student athletes on the basketball teams and special workshops for football players, are strategies which have helped to maintain compliance and academic success for student athletes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Academic support is an important factor for prospective student athletes and therefore availability for recruiting meetings is also a necessary role that the advisor to student athletes must play. In this case, Shelly meets with prospective students and their parents in football, soccer, volleyball, lacrosse and track. Each of these teams has significant numbers of students, requiring a fair amount of Shelly's time.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Feedback from colleagues of the ARC reported that while the department works extremely hard, they must rely on colleagues to reach their goals. The advising deans and others in the division of student affairs are able to provide support for students who tend to fall above the "at risk" status, yet need additional support.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Recommendations for support for student athletes includes the following:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">7) Increase the staff by one <b>full time Academic Counselor</b> in order to provide an integrated experience beyond mere compliance for student athletes. Comparable universities such as American, Duke, Villanova, Boston College, University of Pennsylvania, and Fordham University have between 3 and 7 professional staff members to support student athletes. These offices also engage students in laedership development, counseling, career development, and tutorial support specifically for student athletes- far beyond a compliance-only model.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">8) Co-locate all the staff in the department so that they are able to consult, share resources and bring the women's basketball team in closer connection with other student athletes. Currently the separation of offices and space isolates the team and limits the natural engagement opportunities that can occur when these students are physically isolated from other resources.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">9) Improve the policies and practices for hiring tutors. Students often are not aware of the need for tutorial assistance until mid-semester, yet it becomes challenging to hire tutors at that time. A review of the hiring policies and practices may identify changes that can improve the experience of acquiring a tutor and lead to greater academic success for students.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">10) Utilize technological solutions for academic monitoring of courses so that more students can be monitored before they are at risk. Also, technology can improve the process for requesting tutors to reduce the time to acquiring a tutor</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Academic Support&nbsp;</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;">The ARC website indicates support in three categories: Disability Support; Student-Athlete Support; Academic Support. It invites students who want to improve their academic skills such as note-taking, test-taking and time-management to "take advantage of the resources" of the ARC. Such academic support is warranted for talented university students whose approaches to learning and studying should match the challenges and opportunities of the curriculum. However, the ARC's lack of space and staff has led to the prioritization of students with disabilities and student-athletes over other students in the Georgetown student body. During our meeting with various stakeholders, especially faculty and Advising Deans, we learned of specific cohorts of students, who would benefit from individual academic support with a learning specialist. These include international students, STEM students, individuals from under-resourced high schools, graduate students, and those students who "never had to study in high school." The ARC stats have also noted a significant increase in students as a result of the growth of the School of Continuing Studies, including online at the undergraduate and graduate level. There appears to be a lack of outreach that would invite students to engage with the ARC and normalize the use of academic support. It was also suggested that the knowledgeable ARC staff could be more fully utilized as ongoing direct support to Advising Deans, not only during times of student crisis.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Recommendations for Academic Support:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">11)&nbsp;Hire a <b>Learning Strategies Specialist</b> to work with undergraduate and graduate Georgetown students on university-relevant skills that support their work across disciplines. Provide an array of supportive services for the diverse undergraduate and graduate student populations to support Georgetown's commitment to the cognitive and metacognitive growth of their students.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">12)&nbsp;With the input of students, develop outreach through print materials and social media with the objectives of informing students, faculty, staff, prospective students, and parents about the resources of the ARC and diminishing the stigma of academic support.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Space and Location</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div>Across all stakeholders, the ARC's space, located in the Leavey Center, was described as inadequate, embarrassing, and deplorable. The students underscored the problems from a user's perspective.&nbsp;The ARC is not wheelchair friendly which is disconcerting since it is the location of disability services for students. Office space is inadequate to house all the staff who should be working together. Since increased staff is needed for the ARC, there will not be enough space in the current location</div><div style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">The ARC is difficult to locate, both geographically and on the University's website. Although its location in the student center would seem ideal, it lacks the visibility of other major offices such as the Career Center. There is a scarcity of campus signage to direct students and visitors, especially those using a wheelchair or crutches, to the disability office in the Leavey Center. Current &nbsp;construction is reason for even more directional signs. Once inside the building, there is a lack of indicators. Additionally, locating the ARC on the Georgetown University's website brings up a descriptor page with "Academic Resource Center" hidden among the text.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The room for accommodated testing, located on a different floor of the Leavey Center, can only accommodate nine students. Its location as separate from the ARC is problematic in that the ability to proctor exams is limited. Additionally, staff cannot fit in the room to observe and there is no technology to provide oversight. The room was described as a "former closet" and "claustrophobic." It lacks ventilation, becoming unpleasantly warm. Noise from the hallway contradicts the accommodation of a "distraction reduced setting." With increased numbers of accommodated exams, ARC staff must often vacate their offices to provide additional testing areas. When an accommodation is not fair and equal, students may file complaints. The testing space should meet determined accommodations in terms of quiet, lighting, and ventilation. It should include ample space for proctoring.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Recommendations concerning space and location:</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;">13) Relocate the Academic Resource Center to a setting that includes enough offices to comfortably house ARC staff, student spaces, program areas, conference room and administrative areas for reception and workroom. The location should be easily accessible and in a well-traveled area of the campus. The ARC Director and staff are the best determiners of particular space needs.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">14)&nbsp;Work with University architects to create and install appropriate directional signage to the ARC's location. Other accessible expectations such as braille on the elevators and accessible restrooms should also be a priority.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">15) Create a Testing Center in close proximity to the ARC. Consider lighting, adjustable desks, and technology (including assistive technology). Build this center to accommodate future needs by considering five-year trends and benchmarking other institutions that have built areas for accommodated testing.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">References</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Navarro, K. &amp; Malvaso, S., (2015) Synthesizing Research on the Contemporary Student-Athlete Experience: implications and recommendations for NCAA Student Athlete development programming. Journal of College and Character, 16:4, 263-269, DOI: 10.1080/2194587x.2015.1091358</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Grossman, P.D. &amp; Smith, E.J. (2015). Five Things Student Affairs Professionals Should Know About Disability Law. Washington, D.C.: NASPA Foundation.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-83075038571343665162016-04-04T20:54:00.002-04:002016-04-04T20:55:25.314-04:00Hello, internalized ableism<i>Content/TW: Internalized ableism, passing for neurotypical, not passing for neurotypical</i>.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Hello, internalized ableism</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>I don't believe in the ableist, classist hierarchy that treats autistic people as "legitimately autistic" only if they have an on-paper diagnosis while other autistic people are treated dubiously and with suspicion if they self-identify without (obtaining) an on-paper diagnosis. That hierarchy privileges the medical/psychiatric-industrial complex as the sole arbiter of autistic identity and experience. (In other words, only considering someone to be a "real" autistic person if they have a paper diagnosis means that you believe that only medical/psychiatric professionals can define who counts as autistic.) That hierarchy also privileges those who have class privilege, especially compounded by other forms of privilege. Class-privileged white people, for example, are more likely to have the resources necessary to access a paper diagnosis, than lower-income people and people of color, and especially low-income people of color.<br /><br />Others have written extensively on the issue of privileging paper diagnoses and marginalizing self-identified people, most famously in the letter "<a href="http://archive.autistics.org/library/whoisautistic.html">Who Can Call Themselves Autistic?</a>" penned more than ten years ago by some of the greats in the autistic movement. I won't linger long on that topic of conversation.<br /><br />I wanted to preface this post with that caveat on diagnosis and self-identification because I'm starting my story here (and I'm unapologetically autistic in the way this story unwinds, which is to say, it's both extremely linear, logical, and intuitive all at once, and not at all):<br /><br />I received a paper diagnosis through a neuropsychological evaluation when I was in eighth grade. (<a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2012/04/problems-with-aspergers.html">At the time the label used in my evaluation was "Asperger's" but I identify myself as autistic</a>&nbsp;because I believe in creating solidarity among autistic people rather than reinforcing artificial divisions between autistic people based on ableist ideas about which types of autistic people are acceptable or desirable versus not.)<br /><br />From the time I was a small child, I never quite fit in with other children my own age, whether with other Chinese American children or with children in my classes or with children in my childhood church. I was painfully slow on the uptake when figuring out that people I thought were nice to me or were my friends were actually treating me like shit.<br /><br />But somewhere between the time I received the autistic diagnosis and now, I had fallen into a kind of complacency in my young adulthood (I'm in law school now) as a disability activist about my own disabled identity and experiences. From believing that <a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2012/04/culture-of-shame.html">autism was something to be ashamed of</a> (and that would result in my classmates bullying me even more if they found out) to <a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2012/11/protesting-autism-speaks.html">actively organizing protests against organizations like Autism Speaks</a> for eugenicist cure rhetoric, I've now settled comfortably into a role as a Professional Activist TM.<br /><br />(<i>What is a career activist anyway? How horrifically has the nonprofit industrial complex injected social movements with white supremacist capitalism?</i>)<br /><br />Part of my work nowadays brings me across the United States to speak at colleges and conferences and with all sorts of other groups interested in anti-ableism training. I talk about privilege a lot and one of the types of privilege that I discuss is passing privilege -- <a href="http://groupthink.kinja.com/passing-is-not-privilege-1507307239">maybe better termed "being less fucked."</a>&nbsp;I talk about hidden disabilities versus apparent disabilities, and how sometimes, a particular person might be apparently disabled but at other times they're not. (Someone who uses a wheelchair might not be apparently disabled while lying in bed. Someone autistic might not be apparently disabled in a still photograph taken when they weren't stimming. These are still maybes and don't account for more complicated experiences.)<br /><br />I use myself as an example, especially in casual conversation. I tell people that I generally pass for neurotypical and that to most people, especially those who aren't terribly familiar with autistic people, my disabilities are fairly hidden.<br /><br />(Maybe sometimes I'm giving this long introduction or caveat for my own existence as a way of trying to navigate the double bind we're often placed into as disabled people -- if you're "high-functioning" you can't speak for the <i>really </i>disabled people; if you're "low-functioning," those must not be your ideas at all! -- and avoid the accusations that I'm a not-really-disabled person profiting off of "really" disabled people.)<br /><br />But lately, I'm coming face to face with the realization that I'm wrong about whether, to what extent, and how often I pass for neurotypical. I'm realizing that even if I don't identify myself as disabled or autistic, other people still read me as "different" and that as much as my gender identity, (a)sexuality, and race might contribute to that perception, my disability is an inextricable part of the equation. Years after receiving a paper diagnosis and winding my way through layer after layer of educational privilege where I thought I might be perceived as somewhat weird but not fundamentally deviant, I find that other people still intuitively peg me as some kind of neurodivergent (whether or not they know that word) and often attach negative aspersions to that perception.<br /><br />And frankly, that's scary.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="556" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hw20dqr1Uds/VwL_VQoQD7I/AAAAAAAAD7s/7W9LPjQi3ewJuGON729eRF7e08nVWw41A/s640/WH%2B2014.png" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><i>Photo: Young east asian person (Lydia Brown) in pale green pantsuit standing to ask a question in a room full of seated people, some of whom are also disabled in various ways. From the first White House event on the intersection of LGBTQI and disabled experiences in June 2014. Photo by Patrick Cokley.</i><br /><br />It's scary, sure, because it means I could face discrimination I didn't think I might have to deal with (being relatively less fucked if able to pass for not-disabled), because it means I could be read more easily as a target for potential violence (given the rates of all forms of violence against cognitively and developmentally disabled people, especially those read as feminine or women), because it means I am more visible than I realized and visibility itself also means violence.<br /><br />But it's also scary because I'm becoming intimately acquainted with my own internalized ableism in all the little dark crevices in corners of my mind I forgot existed and haven't thought to check, and I can't shake the immediate thoughts that <i>I should try harder not to seem so autistic in public </i>or else <i>what am I doing <u>wrong</u>&nbsp;that other people can tell?</i>&nbsp;Essentially, I'm finding that my reactions to this ongoing realization of just how much my neurodivergence shows are that there is something wrong and that I should feel ashamed and self-conscious if (non-autistic) people can tell that I'm autistic. For all the time I've spent in conversation with other disabled people -- and autistic people in particular -- about ableism and neurodivergence and neurodiversity and radical disability, I have never stamped it all out.<br /><br />We build cultures of perfection in activist spaces. This is not unique to autistic or disabled spaces. Purity politics pervade activist and social justice spaces. Call-out culture demands that in the rush to create safe spaces, we shut people out and throw them away if they fuck up once. (<a href="http://www.blackgirldangerous.org/2013/12/calling-less-disposable-way-holding-accountable/">This is not about forgiving privileged people for repeatedly entitled or outright abusive behavior targeting marginalized people. This is about disposability politics.</a>) We're constantly competing for limited resources ("likes" and "reblogs" and "retweets," all the twenty-first century trappings of social capital -- and that word "capital" is critically important), trying to be better activists, always on, always saying the right thing. We give pithy acknowledgements of privilege and past ignorance/fuck-ups, but functionally act as though in the present time, we no longer fuck up because now we're Educated. That it is our duty to jump down each other's throats at the slightest mistake or misphrasing -- ignoring the completely classist, racist, and ableist implications of expecting people to always say the right thing and never accidentally say the wrong thing or not know the correct terms.<br /><br />All we've done is replicated the painful violence of white supremacist, (cis-hetero) patriarchal capitalism in supposedly revolutionary, transformative, liberatory spaces.<br /><br />All we've done is take the practices we find harmful and do the exact same things to each other.<br /><br />We've created activist cultures where it is not acceptable to talk about ongoing struggles with internalized ableism, yet we expect autistic and other disabled people doing disability movement work to be politically perfect (that is, to have no traces anymore of any internalized ableism.)<br /><br />We have created a mirror image of the "overcoming" supercrip/inspoporn narrative we all hate:<br /><br /><i>Ambika was diagnosed with autism, but she went to social skills class and occupational therapy and tried so very hard to succeed despite autism and now she's in medical school and has overcome all of the autism-related deficits that predicted she would never make it this far!&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i>Now we have a different "overcoming" story and it's just as toxic:<br /><br /><i>Ayodele was an autistic teenager when he first met autistic neurodiversity activists, and then he started going to anti-Autism Speaks protests and local ASAN chapter meetings, and writing his own blog on Tumblr and now he's working for a national disability rights organization and has overcome all of his internalized ableism from being in the self-contained special ed classroom!&nbsp;</i><br /><br />Yet no one seems to notice the painful irony of exactly how similar these narratives are -- though we condemn one and exalt the other.<br /><br />So where are our spaces where we can heal not just from the trauma inflicted on us by others but also from the ongoing trauma we inflict on ourselves? Where can we be vulnerable, truly vulnerable, without fearing the consequences of enforced ostracism from "safe spaces" that privilege an ableist facade of having-it-together and overcoming-internalized-oppression?<br /><br />So here I am, feeling very much at the edge and isolated from most autistic spaces these days, trying to reach my tendrils through dark corners of webspace in the hopes of reaching those of you who, like me, are struggling to uproot our own internalized ableism while maintaining the public facade of impenetrability.<br /><br /><i>Hello, internalized ableism. I don't miss you and I don't like you very much at all.&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Hello, internalized ableism. You seem to be very comfortable inside my mind, but I think it's time for you to start packing and moving out -- for good.&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Hello, internalized ableism. You know me far, far too well. You're hardly a stranger here.&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Hello, internalized ableism. You're living in my brain and I can't ignore your presence anymore.</i><br /><br />Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-56152426231208990902016-03-22T15:45:00.000-04:002016-03-22T15:56:51.402-04:00Disability cannot mean "white disabled people" only.This is testimony that I delivered at the Massachusetts State House today on a bill that would create an Office of Health Equity in the state government. <a href="https://autistichoya.files.wordpress.com/2016/03/brown-lydia-s-1114-testimony-mar-2016.pdf">Also available in PDF</a>.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="322" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-okZZbEK6D_A/VvGgLOHHABI/AAAAAAAADwo/DdXih4RFrIkyoZKRzp9hfpn_fkND-xLvw/s640/DAAHR.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><i>Photo:&nbsp;A Latina advocate from the mental health community speaks publicly during the Disability Advocates Advancing Our Healthcare Rights forum (January 2016) while others listen and an east asian person (me) holds the microphone for the person speaking. Photo by Boston Center for Independent Living.</i><br /><br />***<br /><br />22 March 2016<br /><br />Rep. Jeffrey Sánchez, House Chairman<br />Sen. James T. Welch, Senate Chairman<br />Joint Committee on Health Care Financing<br />Massachusetts State House<br /><br />Dear Committee Members:<br /><br />Thank you for allowing me to testify today. My name is Lydia Brown. Some of you may already know me, as I seem to have made Beacon Hill visits a dedicated hobby. I am a disabled advocate and community organizer; I am also an East Asian person of color, queer identified, and gender non-conforming. In Massachusetts, I am chairperson of a statewide disabilities council and co-president of TASH New England, the regional chapter of an international disability rights organization. Nationally, I serve on the board of the Autism Women’s Network.<br /><br />From both personal and professional experience, I am keenly aware that healthcare disparities are one of the most insidious and pervasive forms of discrimination impacting any underrepresented or minoritized group. These disparities are evident in quality of care, diagnostic accuracy, network adequacy, service delivery models, multicultural competency, and overall health outcomes. These disparities result in lower life expectancy, less access to any healthcare including mental health services, and other deleterious effects on well-being and social stability.<br /><br />Today, your committee will hear testimony on a bill – <b>S-1114 (An Act to eliminate health disparities in the commonwealth)</b> – that seeks to address and remediate health disparities in the Commonwealth by establishing a dedicated state office on health equity. Such an office could serve as a critical starting point in identifying specific sources of inequity affecting Massachusetts residents, especially those impacting whole populations, and then addressing those systemic issues.<br /><div><br /></div><div><div>This bill should be reported favorably from committee, <b><u>but if and only if it is amended to be stronger than the existing bill</u> (H-3969 / S-2143, An Act eliminating racial and ethnic health disparities in the Commonwealth) <u>that has already been passed to be engrossed</u></b>.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>The language of S-1114, the bill before you today, is much weaker and rather concerning compared to the other bill. Specifically, this bill identifies “race and ethnicity” and “disability status” as separate determinants (or people of color and people with disabilities as separate groups) associated with health disparities:</div></div><div><br /></div><div><div><b>Ex. 1 (definitions)</b></div><div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="background-color: white;">“Health disparities”, differences in the incidence, prevalence, mortality and burden of diseases and other adverse health conditions, in the access to or receipt of health care, or both, that disproportionately affects certain racial and ethnic groups, as determined by the office, and people with disabilities.</span></blockquote></div><div> </div><div><b>Ex. 2 (statutory mandate)</b></div><div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="background-color: white;">The office [of health equity] shall also consider and make recommendations regarding subpopulations among racial and ethnic minorities and people with disabilities that experience the highest levels of disparity in health and health care.</span></blockquote></div><div><br /></div><div>The other bill (H-3969 / S-2143) that has already been passed to be engrossed, states instead:&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Ex. 1 (definitions)</b></div><div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="background-color: white;">“Health disparities”, differences in the incidence, prevalence, mortality and burden of diseases and other adverse health conditions, differences in the access to or receipt of health care or both such differences that disproportionately affect individuals based on race, ethnicity, gender and disability status.</span></blockquote></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></div><div><b>Ex. 2 (statutory mandate)</b></div><div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="background-color: white;">The office [of health equity] shall also consider and make recommendations regarding individuals that experience the highest levels of disparity in health and health care based on race, ethnicity, gender and disability status.</span></blockquote></div><div><br /></div></div><div><div>That bill as amended is significantly stronger and more promising than S-1114 because it attempts, however potentially ineffectually, to acknowledge that a person may be impacted by membership in more than one minoritized group, and to attempt to focus the office’s resources on such people.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nevertheless, both bills require substantial changes in order to fulfill their intended purpose of identifying and addressing healthcare disparities. Both bills can and should be strengthened by adding language that does not merely list various categories of minority identity, but that acknowledges the particularly pernicious effects of compounded systemic inequalities. (The new bill lists race, ethnicity, and disability as possible factors; the existing bill lists race, ethnicity, gender, and disability. Some possible additional characteristics might include limited English proficiency and sexual orientation.)&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>As a disabled and gender non-conforming person of color, I understand disability issues as neither separate from nor competing with racial or transgender issues. The healthcare outcomes of white disabled people differ from those of disabled people of color; those of transgender people of color with disabilities differ significantly from those of non-transgender white people with disabilities. This new bill, S-1114, speaks of people of color and people with disabilities as though we comprise two separate constituencies; this could not be farther from the reality that we face.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>We <u>must</u> focus on race and ethnicity as sources of continued discrimination and systemic disenfranchisement in healthcare, because people of color continue to experience appallingly ordinary discrimination in healthcare settings. Look no further than the numerous studies showing that people of color, especially Black people, are taken less seriously when complaining of pain than white people. This does not in any way whatsoever undermine the reality that LGBTQ people and disabled people experience often severe discrimination in healthcare.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>We have research demonstrating that doctors are more likely to make more rapid life or death decisions on risky procedures if the patient has a developmental disability, including denying eligibility for organ transplants without any medical reason. We know that disabled people of colors and LGBTQ disabled people have been more likely than others to be denied sex education or worse, subjected to forcible sterilization. We know that the transgender people least likely to be able to access gender affirming healthcare are transgender people of color and transgender people with disabilities.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Thus, we cannot afford to conceptualize categories of difference as mutually exclusive. Disability cannot mean white disabled people only. Race cannot mean non-disabled people of color only. Gender cannot mean non-transgender women only. I cannot settle for a bill that not only seems to pit my communities against each other, but which could also lead to further disparities by focusing desperately needed resources only on the most privileged members of my communities.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>An effective health equity office can only fulfill its mission of identifying and ameliorating healthcare disparities if it is equipped with an explicit statutory mandate to address those most impacted by multiple systemic inequalities. That mandate must be fulfilled through&nbsp;</div></div><div><br /></div><div><div>(1)<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>ensuring that the office’s administration, internal leadership, and community engagement activities are of, by, and with members of the directly impacted communities at all levels;&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>(2)<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>enumerating multiple categories of minoritized identities (<i>starting </i>with race, ethnicity, gender identity, and disability) as many possible bases for health disparities that do not exist in isolation and that compound one another, <u>and</u> explicitly creating a particular mandate to focus on health disparities affecting people impacted by multiple minority experiences, who are not <i>subpopulations </i>but <i>specific underrepresented populations</i>;</div><div><br /></div><div>(3)<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>ongoing multicultural competency training for all of the office’s leadership and staff on sexual orientation, gender identity, race, disability, and other minoritized identities; and</div><div><br /></div><div>(4)<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>sustained partnership with organizations led by and for minoritized communities, especially those led by people with multiple minority experiences, that are already addressing healthcare disparities from the ground up.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>These bills both contain much promise, and I urge this committee to work hard to ensure that, through all necessary amendments, those bills are in the best possible position to keep that promise for those of us most impacted by compounded inequalities. To that end, I am happy to work with interested members of this committee and others in the legislature on amendments to S-1114 or to H-3969 / S-2143. Thank you again for your time and consideration.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sincerely,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></div><div>Lydia X. Z. Brown<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></div></div><div><br /></div>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-20917328520943814262016-02-11T22:12:00.003-05:002016-02-12T01:20:48.697-05:00Disabled people are not your feel-good back-pats.Anyone who watches <i>Orange is the New Black</i> remember the cringe-worthy Caputo episode? (S3, E11. "We Can Be Heroes." Yep, that's the title of it. And no real spoilers ahead in this post for people who didn't watch Season 3.)<br /><br />So the whole drawn-out thing is an exercise of Caputo (terrible prison administrator who is for probably horrible patriarchal, misogynistic reasons portrayed as the not-as-bad-guy, for the non-fans) trying to prove that he's a decent human being (spoiler alert: he's not). Maybe the producers/writers/whoever wanted him to seem human and relatable. The theme revolves around this line that keeps coming up, that he's always holding doors open and upset when no one thanks him. (Reminiscent of the MRA core belief that politeness and everyday decency toward women somehow create a right to sex with them.)<br /><br />The opening flashback takes us to Caputo's high school years as a varsity wrestler. Stereotypical high school star athlete, captain of the team, that whole shebang. The coach has the team huddled together before the meet, and tells them that one of the wrestlers among them has taken one for the team and volunteered to do an exhibition match with this student from another high school. The coach tells them the other student has always dreamed of being a wrestler and now his dream will come true. The coach reveals that the volunteer is their team star, young Caputo, and calls Caputo a "real hero." Caputo, smiling, says, "I'm gonna make him feel like he's really doing it."<br /><br />Here I am watching this, already cringing, about 99.99% sure I can already predict exactly what's about to come in the next shot.<br /><br />BAM. Now Caputo steps to the ring, along with another high school student, also in wrestling gear. The announcer introduces them as "two very special wrestlers" before giving their names to the audience. The student from the other high school, predictably, has Down syndrome, a now easily recognized apparent disability.<br /><br />Typically, the story ends with the non-disabled participant "heroically" letting the disabled person (usually a person with an intellectual or developmental disability) win. The underlying assumptions, of course, are that (a) disabled people are incapable of winning or even competing alongside everyone else because we are automatically not good at anything ever, and (b) disabled people lack awareness of reality so much that we can't tell when others are patronizing or condescending. In <i>OITNB</i>, the plot takes a different turn. Kendall Barnes (the student with Down syndrome) turns out to be so strong and physically powerful that he injures Caputo badly enough to prevent Caputo from ever competing again.<br /><br />Sadly, as those of us in the disability world know well by now, these stories don't flit about only on the silver screen. They're also everywhere in our mass media and social networking. Sometimes they're posted with clickbait titles -- "You will cry after watching what this wrestling jock did for a special needs kid." "Tear-jerking video of girl with Down syndrome singing special song with local choir." "5 heart-warming stories about everyday good deeds from the kids in the autism classroom down the hall." "What this prom king did for special needs classmate will restore your faith in humanity."<br /><br />(Ugh, now that I've typed these out, as in actually, legitimately, typed them out, I'm going to go vomit. Be right back.)<br /><br />Stella Young, the late disabled activist as known for her wit and sharp analysis as for her snazzy outfits, called this phenomenon "inspiration porn." Many of us call it inspoporn for short. It refers to the omnipresent trope of stories that tend to fall into one of three categories:<br /><br />(1) Disabled person does something extremely extraordinary (climbs Mt. Everest, is elected to a country's highest governing body, publishes New York Times bestseller, etc.), and it's presented as inspiring because the person is disabled, and not because 99% of the total population (disabled and non-disabled) could have never achieved it.<br /><br />(2) Disabled person does something pretty mundane for most people (graduates middle school, plays in a basketball game, bakes cookies, etc.), and it's presented as inspiring because apparently disabled people are assumed to be incapable of doing ... anything. At all. With or without adaptive equipment. With or without practice and instruction geared to their learning style.<br /><br />(3) Non-disabled person does something not overtly negative or generally shitty to disabled person (doesn't call them names, invites them to a birthday party or a prom, doesn't discriminate against them during a job interview, etc.), and it's presented as inspiring because LOOK AT THE MAGNANIMOUS, KIND-HEARTED (non-disabled) SAINT BEING NICE TO A PERSON SUFFERING FROM A DISABILITY. (*language intentional)<br /><br />(Note there is often a racial component to these stories too: white disabled people and or white "helpers" present more easily accepted caricatures of saintly, angelic, heroic, courageous, inspirations.)<br /><br />In other words, inspoporn is a collection of overcomer, supercrip, and saintly helper stories. The common undercurrent to <i>all types </i>of inspiration porn, however, is the disabled person's role in the story. Instead of being an individual character, fleshed out and made fully human and at least potentially relatable to the reader/viewer, the disabled person (or disabled people, if there's a group) exists as a&nbsp;<i>prop&nbsp;</i>for the non-disabled person in the story. The disabled person's existence serves as edification for the non-disabled people around them, or as a moral yardstick to measure whether the non-disabled people (the ones who <i>are </i>relatable as main characters to the presumed non-disabled only audience)&nbsp;are sufficiently good tolerant people who are minimally not shitty. This is not the same as being actively anti-ableist, by any stretch of the imagination.<br /><br />Ari Ne'eman, Autistic Self Advocacy Network co-founder and president, describes the third category of inspoporn as Very Special Episode syndrome -- where a disabled character is newly introduced for one or a few episodes of a long-running series (in a book or film, this could easily be adjusted to a single chapter, single scene, or background plot) to teach the main characters (of course not disabled themselves) a very important lesson about tolerance before going back to the institution or special needs school where they "really belong."<br /><br />So you can imagine my dismay when I came across this post in a law school's Disability Law Society social media page:<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9eSD0v8eH8U/Vr1A3PzVM0I/AAAAAAAADkE/9iMTqt6gOYI/s640/Grossss.png" width="441" /></imageanchor></div><br /><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: From a Facebook group for a Disability Law Society, a link to a news article. The original comment is, "This is what a true leader looks like :) [smile] " The article title is "Norton High School wrestler allows for dream win," and its description, "A high school wrestling champion is undefeated no more after answering the call to make another wrestler's wish come true." The photo shows two smiling young white people, one without an apparent disability (Deven Schuko) and the other a person with Down syndrome (Andy Howland), both in a gymnasium with wrestling championship banners. I commented below, "This is inspiration porn. This kind of patronizing story treats disabled people as objects of pity who don't understand if we're not "really" winning so we can make non-disabled people feel good about themselves. We don't need heroes or saviors."</span></i><br /><div><br />This is not leadership. This is self-gratifying ableism. This is objectifying the young man with Down syndrome. This is <i>infantilizing </i>the young man with Down syndrome. This is placing this non-disabled wrestler on some kind of magical pedestal for participating in an inherently condescending activity that presumes incompetence on the part of the young man with Down syndrome and heroics on the part of the non-disabled wrestler. This is focusing the narrative on the person without a disability so the readers can laud him as a hero and a savior. This story is not about leadership. It's about pity, condescension, and cheapened do-gooding masquerading as heroism. It's about tokenism and commodification. It's a story about privilege and power, and the abuse of that privilege and power rather than the intentional use of it.<br /><br />(Andy Howland lives in the twenty-first century. It's not hard to find out, if he didn't already suspect, that Deven Schuko intentionally lost. And how exactly do you think that's supposed to make Andy feel? Respected? Equal? Bullshit.)<br /><br />Repeat after me:<br /><br />Disabled people are not your feel-good back-pats.<br /><br />Disabled people are not your cheap do-gooder points.<br /><br />Disabled people are not your good tolerant person moral yardstick.<br /><div><br /></div>Disabled people are not your charity projects.<br /><br />Disabled people are not your community service.<br /><br />Disabled people are not your emotional commodity.<br /><br />Got that? Good.</div><div><br /></div><div>Spending a few hours a week around us, under the assumption that we cannot and do not understand the conversations you have about us, does nothing to challenge assumptions about disabled people. Cloistering us into special programs and exhibition matches does nothing to promote genuine, sustained, meaningful inclusion of disabled people into spaces that should be open to everyone but in reality are only open to a few. Volunteering to ask us on a pity date to the prom, pretending to compete while intentionally losing at a sport, including us once a month or year at your activity or program -- these things do nothing to challenge ableism but everything to perpetuate it. This type of faux inclusion and feigned friendship serve to isolate, stigmatize, and reinforce negative assumptions about disabled people -- assumptions that have incredibly harmful consequences beyond the exhibition match or special prom.</div><div><br /></div><div>Do you want to support disabled people? Do you want to be more informed, more educated, less ignorant, and less foolish? Then start by paying attention to what we have to say. Start by learning the tools of practicing allyship. Start by assuming that your assumptions are wrong or at the very least, misinformed. Start by questioning narratives that seem to be much more about a non-disabled person's supposed heroics than about a disabled person's humanity and agency in controlling the narrative about them. Start by focusing less on some special one-time event or photo shoot, and more time on the systemic problems in your backyard -- the high rates of bullying impacting students with disabilities, the fact that the school to prison pipeline impacts disabled Black and Brown students more than any other demographic, the high rates of homelessness and unemployment, the overall lack of access to affordable and accessible healthcare especially for rural or queer or trans disabled folks, the consistent denial of access to adaptive equipment and communication devices, the high rates of sexual abuse and killings by family members, the daily torture rituals that many disabled people suffer from in the name of "treatment" and "therapy" and "cure." Ask why disabled people are routinely excluded in the first place such that would-be do-gooders assume our only option is the pity-based special event, and work to change that reality.</div><div><br /></div><div>Start by treating us as partners instead of projects, and maybe, just maybe, we'll start to get somewhere.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Read more:</div><div><ul style="font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 24.64px; margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px 2.5em;"><li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://goo.gl/Hqjwxb" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;">Being My Friend Does Not Make You A Hero</a>&nbsp;by Karin Hitselberger</li><li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #2288bb; font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://goo.gl/62Fmb" style="color: #888888; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;">Don't be a hero</a></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">&nbsp;by Sea Change Ripples</span></li><li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://goo.gl/dC0kWI" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;">The helper personality scares me...</a>&nbsp;by Kassiane Sibley</li><li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://goo.gl/Hqjwxb" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;">I'm Not Your Fodder For A Feel Good Story: People With Disabilities &amp; The Assumption That Friendship Is Charity</a>&nbsp;by The Squeaky Wheelchair</li><li style="margin: 0px 0px 0.25em; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://goo.gl/cSZCw" style="color: #888888; font-family: inherit; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 1.4; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">We're not here for your inspiration</a><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 1.4;">&nbsp;by Stella Young</span></li></ul></div><div><br /></div>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-32192213955261424362016-02-10T13:13:00.003-05:002016-02-10T13:19:51.099-05:00An Open Letter to the Educators That I Work With<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6eoTbSiA7aw/Vrt8_8Gt3aI/AAAAAAAADjk/EgDXOjnQaJQ/s640/Diversability%2Bart%2Bnight%2B12mar12.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><i><br /></i><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><i>Photo: Nine people, including Lydia Brown, of various gender presentations, races, and dis/abilities statuses sitting on a carpeted floor in a college classroom painting and drawing posters about disability representation. Two paintings involve eyes -- one a symbol for blindness, and one with a heart instead of the pupil; another painting involves a tree; and a drawing depictions of various autistic activists. From Diversability Art Night at Georgetown University, 12 March 2012.</i><br /><i><br /></i><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">An Open Letter to the Educators That I Work With&nbsp;</span></b><br /><br /><i>This anonymous post comes to Autistic Hoya from the same anonymous contributor who wrote "<a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2013/08/how-to-be-ally-to-sick-people.html">How to be an Ally to Sick People</a>," "<a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2013/08/a-guide-to-sighted-allyhood.html">A Guide to Sighted Allyhood</a>,"&nbsp;and "<a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2013/08/how-to-be-ally-for-people-with-ptsd.html">How to be an Ally for People with PTSD</a>."</i><br /><br />Having a bad day? Stressed out? Under-slept? Headache? You were so kind to me when you could tell I was under the weather and checked in with me.<br /><br />You were so grateful when I acknowledged that your caseload just doubled and how stressful that must be.<br /><br />You were quick to tell me it's not the caseload. It's the "behaviors".<br /><br />You were so sweet to your colleague on the phone asking how he's feeling today.<br /><br />Where does that empathy go when you yell at your student for saying "yes" in the wrong tone of voice (because you know, she had a headache today--I asked).<br /><br />What about your tone of voice with her? You know, you yelling at her and everything?<br /><br />Where is that kind-heartedness for your student who is struggling to stay awake because he couldn't get enough sleep last night due to his home situation?<br /><br />Where is that sweet voice you used with your colleague? Why is your voice all the sudden so harsh and demanding with your students?<br /><br />How come you extend so much compassion to me, but not to our student?<br /><br />Why does your compassion-o-meter shut off so suddenly as soon as the person you're talking to is under 18?<br /><br />Why do you think that yelling at your students is going to help at all? If they are struggling, isn't there some part of you that realizes that what they need is tender-heartedness?<br /><br />Why can't you let your students have a bad day? Why can't you let them have their own feelings? Why can't you allow them to be human?<br /><br />Why is it a "behavior" when a young person sighs in exhaustion, meanwhile you literally just sighed when you came in the room because you're exhausted?<br /><br />Why are you literally keeping these students in detention for doing the exact same thing you just did...in front of them?<br /><br />Why do you think every little micro-behavior is about you? And not about them trying to regulate and soothe their mind-body-spirit in this environment?<br /><br />How can you complain to me about how these students are so "high-functioning" and shouldn't be "disruptive" (your term for stimming), while not even seeing that the adult in front of you is also a so-called "high-functioning autistic" who has the same exact mannerisms?<br /><br />How can you not see the double-standard?<br /><br />No, really. How do you not see it?<br /><br />My heart shatters every time I witness once of these interactions. I know I break all the rules. I allow them to be tired, to have a bad day, to be imperfect humans in my presence. I know, I know. I let them stim. The sacrilege. I don't constantly language- and behavior-police them. I make reasonable allowances and accommodations for their disabilities.<br /><br />I'm not going anywhere. I refuse to let them be numbed. I refuse to let them be hardened.<br />And I encourage you to go within. Reconnect with the young person inside you. Nurture the child within. Being compassionate with yourself. Heed your inner child's wisdom.<br /><br />Let you be. Let them be.Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-69747390469177554052016-02-03T23:32:00.000-05:002016-02-03T23:32:01.943-05:00Autistic Representation Crisis in Massachusetts (but dying of not surprise)Let me tell you a story (and apologize in advance for its somewhat long-windedness, but I promise, there's a point.)<br /><br />Several years ago, the Massachusetts Legislature created a special commission on autism tasked with going through the entire state's services, programs, supports, and other types of resources related to autism. The point was to figure out what the state was doing right, what the state was doing wrong, and what the state was doing relatively all right but could stand to significantly improve. The commission also designated multiple subcommittees to deal with different subsets of autistic people -- ranging from school age to adults. The commission, and each subcommittee, met about once a month for most of 2011.<br /><br />There were 44 members of the overall autism commission. 14 were public appointed members, and of them, to the best of my knowledge, only 1 (the ever-present Michael Forbes Wilcox, Jr.) was actually autistic. That means only 2.27% of all of the commissioners were actually autistic.<br /><br />The autism commission met and so did its subcommittees -- several of us who are actually autistic participated in the subcommittees -- and finally released its final report in 2013. I was one of those autistic people, and I was part of the Adult Services Subcommittee. I distinctly remember a fun (that's sarcasm) experience where <a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2011/07/what-is-self-advocacy.html" target="_blank">I suggested that self-advocacy should be a priority, and had managed to get out exactly one word (i.e. "self-advocacy") before a non-autistic parent began to literally shout me down for being "too high functioning" and "excluding nonverbal people with autism."</a> (Sigh. So much for presuming competence and looking to follow the leads of non-speaking autistic activists like Amy Sequenzia, Naoki Higashida [mostly non-speaking], Mel Baggs, Tito Rajarshi Mukhopadhyay, and Larry Bissonnette who are in some ways the epitome of the original "self-advocacy" ideal...) I also remember spending four hours of my birthday in August 2011 in a subcommittee meeting. Fun times, huh?<br /><br />Fast forward now to September 2014, more than a year after the final report from the special commission. Governor Deval Patrick signed into law the "autism omnibus bill." That bill recreated the autism commission, but this time, made it a permanent, standing commission instead of a one-time statewide project. The bill was jam packed with all sorts of recommendations from the special commission's final report, including, importantly, a policy change to the giant services gap for autistic people in the state.<br /><br />Before the bill was signed into law, the Department of Developmental Services had a policy of refusing to provide services to autistic people who had an on-paper IQ of 71 or higher. At the same time, the Department of Mental Health had a policy of refusing to provide services to anyone whose "primary diagnosis" was not a mental health condition -- and because autism is considered a developmental disability instead of a mental health condition, even if an autistic person also identified with a psych disability, they would be ineligible. These parallel exclusionary policies meant that huge swaths of autistic people were unable to receive services -- essentially, anyone autistic with an on-paper IQ of 71 or higher. (This doesn't even begin to touch on the enormous structural problems with the classism, racism, and ableism embedded in the concept of IQ, but there you go.)<br /><br />Among other things, the state government has been adjusting to the tenure of the new governor, Charlie Baker, who came into office in January 2015, four months after the autism omnibus bill became law. In the fall, the Executive Office of Health &amp; Human Services (EOHHS, because there aren't enough acronyms in the world, apparently) sent out a call for nominations (and self-nominations) for people interested in serving on the new, permanent autism commission. Several autistic people sent in paperwork. I, at least, heard nothing for over a year.<br /><br />In the fall of 2015, I saw on the EOHHS website that a first meeting was scheduled for the new autism commission. In January 2016, a second meeting was held. About a week later, I was at a disability and health advocacy forum where I ran into the Department of Developmental Services Commissioner Elin Howe, who mentioned to me that most slots were filled on the commission, but there was one slot specifically for an autistic person -- and that that slot had not been filled.<br /><br />Somehow, despite multiple autistic people sending in paperwork to be considered, not one person had been identified until after the commission had already appointed the vast majority of its members (if not every single member other than the designated autistic person) AND had met twice as a full commission.<br /><br />Somehow, despite the presence of only one autistic person during the commission's first run as a special commission, the state had not learned and did not think it a priority to ensure more meaningful representation of actually autistic people.<br /><br />No information (to date) has been posted about the names of the people appointed and sworn in as commissioners.<br /><br />In contrast, the federally funded Developmental Disabilities Councils require that at least 51% of membership be people with intellectual or developmental disabilities or their family members. (It really should be people who themselves are disabled at 51% and non-disabled family members a separate quota/constituency, but it's better than nothing, and many DD Councils have multiple members with disabilities.) Likewise, the national network of Independent Living Centers (ILC's)/Centers for Independent Living (CIL's) operate under laws that require 51% board of directors representation of disabled people.<br /><br />No one is saying that every single disabled person under the sun is personally interested in public policy, personally capable at any point in time of participating in formal government processes re: public policy as they are run now, or individually represented by every other disabled person who is participating in public policy. (Every single community, ever, is made up of many disparate people with diverse perspectives and experiences.) But. Disabled people know better than non-disabled people what it is like to be disabled. Disabled people who do activism or advocacy tend to have a keen grasp of issues affecting them and people like them, even if we have an incredibly long way to go in sustained cross-disability work.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2015/06/the-best-advocates.html" target="_blank">The best advocates for people with disabilities are other disabled people.</a><br /><br />About a week after my conversation with Commissioner Howe, she informed me that the slot had been filled but did not specify by whom.<br /><br />Earlier today (first week of February), I went to a health law networking event. (Honestly, one of my primary motivations for going to these things is the food. I love meeting new people and learning about what they do -- it is genuinely fascinating. But food is <i>such </i>a powerful motivator.) The new EOHHS Secretary, Marylou Sudders, was the featured speaker. During the Q&amp;A, I seized the opportunity to ask questions first, and one of those questions was about the makeup of the autism commission (and its near total incompatibility with the principle of "nothing about us without us"). From Secretary Sudders's answer, I learned a few important -- and further infuriating -- facts:<br /><br />(1) There are 35 total commissioners. That means that autistic people make up only 2.9% of the commission (still not even a full percentage point higher than on the original commission).<br /><br />(2) As with many topic-focused government councils and commissions, the law specified that members must include representatives from various specific government offices and community organizations. Again as is standard practice, each organization entitled to a representative among the commissioners essentially chose its own representative. That means that every single organization (or all but one, depending on who that last appointee is, since we still don't know) chose a <i>non-autistic person </i>as its representative.<br /><br />(3) Secretary Sudders (and potentially others) has proposed that someone should introduce legislation that would amend the law creating the autism commission to require at least a few autistic people on the commission. That means that no one thought to include any provision in the original bill specifying at least a certain number of seats for autistic Massachusetts residents (or creating a parallel requirement to the specified organizational representatives that a certain percentage of the total commissioners must be autistic).<br /><br />This type of routine exclusion of autistic people from public policy is so ordinary that I doubt I'll ever be surprised by it. Back in 2012, a congressional committee on Capitol Hill convened a hearing on autism that originally included no autistic witnesses -- it took concentrated lobbying to force the invitations of two autistic people to the hearing (and both, notably, were white men). It took more than ten years before the notoriously awful organization Autism Speaks finally brought two autistic people onto its board (both are white and hold doctorate degrees) in a token symbol of representation. The federal Interagency Autism Coordinating Committee has had at least one autistic representative for the past several years, and for the most recent few, has had three at any given time (note again, all are white and all but one have been men).<br /><br />It doesn't matter, though, that exclusion and tokenism are common practice in the public sphere. What matters is that organizations working in Massachusetts in 2016 should know better. What matters is that we need better communication and better decision-making processes and clearer guidelines for those determining which individuals from which constituencies and with which lived experiences will be invited and appointed to high-level policy positions. What matters is that any individual organization's choice to select a non-autistic representative means very little taken on its own, but that the total picture, where <i>every single organization and agency </i>(possibly, again, except for one) selected a non-autistic representative.<br /><br />Who serves on these organizations boards of directors? How much influence do state agency advisory boards or committees actually have? Who occupies the executive and management roles in these organizations? Which organizations have enough clout to be guaranteed a seat at the table, and which depend entirely on local, grassroots support and operate primarily outside of the insiders' network? Who is recruited into the policy analysis divisions of state agencies? Who is offered internship and other experiential learning opportunities, either as part of conventional higher education or outside that institution?<br /><br />How is it possible that out of the entire state of Massachusetts, it is acceptable in 2016 to permit only one autistic person to serve on the autism commission, and to wait until after two full commission meetings have convened to appoint that person?<br /><br />This photo (below) is pretty out of date. A few readers who've known me for a long time might recognize it. It's from a focus group on autism and ethics that I coordinated for the Autistic Self Advocacy Network's New England chapter way back in May 2011. (Yes, I know I look like a child trying to be a business suit-wearing adult in this picture.)<br /><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-btuGThVRdQs/VrLAS3DdkhI/AAAAAAAADgg/ihClepV5uYk/s640/Autism%2Band%2BEthics%2BFocus%2BGroup.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><br /><i>Photo: A group of twelve people, mostly white, but spanning all ages, standing outside around late afternoon, smiling after their event. Dress ranges from totally casual to business suits. Left to right:&nbsp;Andrew Collins, Claudia S., Dusya Lyubovskaya, Ivan Sheth, Ari Ne'eman, Lydia Brown, Sara Willig, Danielle A., Ryan L., Phil Schwarz, Kevin Barrett, and Daniel B. Photo by Nathaniel Wood.</i><br /><br />I'm including this photo in the middle of the blog post, because it shows twelve autistic people gathered in Massachusetts, mostly from the ASAN New England (now ASAN Boston) chapter. There were actually closer to thirty-something autistic people at the event, but most skipped out before the photo op happened. (Fine, four of them were technically from out of state, but "out of state" here includes one each from Rhode Island, Connecticut, and New Hampshire, none of which are that far.) Obviously, as we know from the special commission's 2013 report, there are many more autistic people in Massachusetts than in this picture, but it's nevertheless a visual representation of "more than one or two" of us.<br /><br />We represent over 147,000 autistic people in this state. (Statistic derived from the 1/45 prevalence rate last reported by the CDC, and the 6,646,144 population number.)<br /><br />Out of over 147,000 autistic people, 35 people have been chosen from across the state to make recommendations and decisions about autism-related public policy in the state government, and only one of those 35 is autistic. (We have to constantly remind ourselves that our voices do not matter and will not be taken seriously except when it becomes politically expedient. To do otherwise, to think or imagine otherwise, is to set ourselves up for constant disappointment. And remember, we must be <i>grateful </i>for any representation at all. Tokens, after all, must take on the burden of speaking for all of us when well-behaved and suffering constant dismissal and attack as "not representative of real autistic people" when even timidly challenging status quo.)<br /><br />And, business as usual dictates that no one with the power to make any decisions notices our almost total exclusion until after we did. It's just. Business. As. Usual.<br /><br />...<br /><br />#LeaveItIn2015 #LeaveThatShitIn2015&nbsp;‪#‎OutrageousButSoSoSoNotSurprising‬Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-19986906581164259882016-01-23T19:34:00.004-05:002016-02-08T20:08:25.553-05:00Creating Change is not exempt from casual ableismCreating Change is not exempt from casual ableism.<br /><br />Right now, thousands of queer and trans folks are gathered in Chicago for the annual Creating Change Conference. I'm not there, mostly for financial inaccessibility reasons but there's also no shortage of disability inaccessibility reasons.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--Um6adNDS0E/VqQVZeQF9II/AAAAAAAADck/jZ103whaB1o/s640/SOCC.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div>&nbsp;<i>Photo: Me keynoting the Students of Color Conference "From Moments to Movements" in Yakima, Washington, April 2015. There are a lot of attendees visible in the unfortunately grainy photo facing the front podium. Over 800 students gathered for SOCC. This picture was unfortunately the only "conference" picture I have in my collection that doesn't show mostly a collection of white people.</i><br /><br />The conference program booklet contains over three pages asking its attendees to show basic respect for disabled attendees -- to not use flash photography, to avoid asking unnecessarily intrusive questions, to refrain from wearing scents/fragrances, to give people extra space and time to communicate, to avoid making assumptions about things like not making eye contact, to not touch or talk to service animals, to hold open inaccessible doors. From the section on resources for disabled attendees directly -- noting where to find large print programs, wheelchairs and scooters, assistive listening devices, or ASL interpreters -- you might assume that they've made a shitton of progress from the usual shitty standard to be expected at most conferences period (but especially conferences not specifically about disability).<br /><br />The fact that there are several sessions on disability inclusion as well as developing a disability justice analysis in liberation work, not to mention an actual Disability Caucus (that's tonight), certainly makes it seem like we should be able to expect a pretty good degree of disability consciousness and a willingness to enforce the actual expectations around not being an ableist dickbag.<br /><br />But then this happened -- an attendee with fibromyalgia (not always an apparent disability) had a series of terrible experiences in just the last couple days alone. <br /><br />In their own words, shared with permission:<br /><br />(begin quote)<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">I understand the wonderful side of Creating Change, that it can be empowering and great. But as a disabled person with different needs I have never felt so marginalized by a conference and the people attending. Most of you know I have some issues with my hips and legs so I bought a cane. After several attempts to get into a elevator (because I don't move fast everyone was cutting me in line and rushing past me) I finally got in one and my cane and I were literally pushed out of that elevator by a group of people probably my own age, because "they were in a hurry." &nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">Yesterday I attended a workshop specifically for disabled folks and the room wasn't accommodating AT ALL. People with mobility devices were separated from people in chairs because of the space and despite several requests the conference wouldn't provide extra chairs or a microphone. People were having to get down on the floor and sit because they weren't able to stand and they wouldn't provide chairs. &nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">Every experience I have had here has been a slap in the face to differently abled or chronically ill folks. Instead of feeling empowered in my body and queerness I feel like there is no place here for me and that CC doesn't actually care about folks that have different needs. This experience has made me the most self conscious I have ever felt about my body and the things it does and needs. It makes me sad.&nbsp;</blockquote>(end quote)<br /><br />This kind of bullshit demonstrates the casual ableism endemic to all kinds of conference spaces.<br /><br />It doesn't matter if the conference is focused on disability. Autistic activist Kassiane Sibley has been repeatedly assaulted with life-threatening seizure triggers at multiple disability-specific conferences, but that's been apparently insufficient to warrant changes in policies or enforcement of them. My partner has been subjected to extremely painful audio feedback from microphones during conferences where plenty of people should have known better. I've been at conferences ostensibly for people with intellectual disabilities where the material ranged from totally cognitively inaccessible to outright patronizing and condescending, because "presume competence" is apparently little more than a buzzword. Other friends who use wheelchairs have been literally unable to get into the room at their conferences -- at times unable to even get onto the podium to speak when they were invited, because there wasn't a ramp provided.<br /><br />This doesn't even begin to touch on the fact that a ridiculous number of disabled activists and advocates are unable to attend the Society for Disability Studies conference (and many others) every year because it's always financially out of reach -- and a disproportionate number of disabled people are no-income or low-income, even those of us with piles of educational privilege.<br /><br />It doesn't matter how much money the hosting institution has. I've been told by a university with an endowment of over $1 billion that paying for American Sign Language interpretation for an event advertised to the public would be a waste of money.<br /><br />It doesn't matter how supposedly progressive, forward-thinking, or inclusive the conference is supposed to be. I can't go anywhere without hearing fellow people of color condemn racist police as "suffering from a mental illness" or fellow progressives insist that focusing on mental health is the way to go in addressing violence or fellow feminists argue that people with uteruses need legal protection for the right to choose so they can abort pregnancies with potentially defective or disabled fetuses.<br /><br />Gentrification and lack of housing also means disabled people who need the few accessible units are totally fucked, especially if they're also low-income, which frankly, we're much more likely to be on average. Blank stares.<br /><br />The prison-industrial complex depends on ableism as much as on white supremacy, and in fact, creates new disability experiences by traumatizing and physically abusing prisoners. Blank stares.<br /><br />Dominant narratives about whose bodies are valuable or desirable or worthy of love focus not only on whether you're thin or heterosexual or cisgender or young(er) but also assume that you're able-bodied, sighted, hearing, physically stable, and neurotypical. Blank stares.<br /><br />Fair pay has to mean not only a $15 minimum wage, an end to the exploitation of prisoners paid at subminimum wage rates, and hour/overtime protections for low-wage workers, but also an end to the subminimum wages under Section 14(c) for disabled workers. Blank stares.<br /><br />If you don't get that "your issues" are also disability issues, how are we supposed to expect even a modicum of space for us at your conferences?<br /><br />Soul-crushing schedules jam packed with workshops and breakouts and plenaries and caucuses and special interest groups and socials and receptions with barely any breaks in between mean that most of us have to say no. They mean that we have to choose between attending the People of Color Caucus and the Trans/Gender Non-Conforming Caucus. Or between attending several breakout sessions and the open social hour that evening. Because our bodies, our brains, our mental health just can't take it. Because the spoons dry up partway through the first day. Because there isn't enough time built in to have actually nothing scheduled.<br /><br />(Scheduling meetings during lunch doesn't count. That means we have to choose between taking the break we need and forcing ourselves to keep "performing" if we want to be able to participate, if that's when the only option for participation is.)<br /><br />Expensive hotels, far-away cities, few opportunities for scholarships or financial aid (and often limited financial aid to cover only cost of registration but not travel costs), and steep registration fees that mean most of us have to resort to crowd-funding and begging everyone we know for help getting there, if we're even able to fight through the enormous amount of classist shame attached to asking for money. And of course, that assumes we're not already in desperate need of money for our own basic survival in the first place.<br /><br />Your queer and trans disabled folks have always been here, creating change in how we do things. In how we do intimacy. In how we do sex. In how we do kinship. In how we do organizing. In how we do social. In how we do community building.<br /><br />But in your spaces, what we do suddenly turns into too much. It's cool to say you're accessible, shows you're hip and aware of the "next latest thing," but actually practicing it? Actually training your volunteers and staff on how to recognize casual ableism and intervene, especially when it comes to how your conference is being run? Actually addressing issues when they arise? Actually responding to people's access needs when they become relevant? No, sorry, it's not convenient.<br /><br />Don't bother putting the accessibility notice in your program if you're going to ignore it. Don't bother putting the accessibility notice in your program if you're not going to act on it. I don't believe in words and vague promises and commitments. I believe in actions. I believe in what people do (or don't, frankly), and if all it is is window dressing, I'd rather you be honest in the first place and not include it if you're not going to follow through on it.<br /><br />If you want to be radically inclusive, if you want to be maximally accessible, if you want to be safer, if you want to create multiple modes of participation, then don't just say you're going to do it. Don't just provide the large print programs and a nice request to please not wear scents or use flash, and then step back and wait for the inevitable fuckery, and then insist that it's all okay and you're still accessible anyway. Create accessibility by practicing your stated commitments and being, oh, I don't know, proactive about it. (This "let's only deal with it after we get a complaint" reactive bullshit needs to stop too.) No more excuses. No more, "but we tried our best." No more, "but it's too hard." No more, "but you're too angry."<br /><br />We're angry because this is a <i>constant occurrence</i>. Literally everywhere, we are reminded that our bodies and brains don't matter and are not valued. But we keep trying, keep pushing to be part of these spaces because we believe in the power of interconnectedness, of intersectionality, of coalition building, of insisting that our communities recognize our existence in all its complexities, of moving from margin to center, of making sure that the next disabled folks after us have a bit less bullshit to put up with. But so far, things aren't changing much more than on the surface. And while that's a little sad, somewhat enraging, and not more than a little disappointing, it's far, far from surprising.<br /><br />(If conferences on disability consistently fail on accessibility by all definitions of the word, then how the hell are we supposed to expect anyone else to get it right? But of course, the problem is that we should be able to expect better. Especially when you claim you're committed to accessibility.)<br /><br />I'm not in Chicago right now, and I'm only sad about that because that means I can't be with my fellow sick and disabled queer and trans folk who are there right now putting up with this ableist bullshit.<br /><br />See you in the struggle.<br /><br /><br /><br /><i>Further Reading:</i><br /><br /><ul><li>"<a href="http://prettyqueer.com/2012/12/07/on-ableism-within-queer-spaces-or-queering-the-normal/" target="_blank">On Ableism within Queer Spaces, or, Queering the “Normal”</a>" by Edward Ndopu and Darnell Moore</li><li>"<a href="http://stephenkuusisto.com/2014/02/02/dear-disabled-person-were-sorry-but-youre-a-real-inconvenience-signed-insert-conference-name-here/" target="_blank">Dear Disabled Person, We're Sorry but You're a Real Inconvenience, Signed, (Insert Conference Name Here)</a>" by Stephen Kuusisto</li><li>"<a href="http://timetolisten.blogspot.com/2015/09/so-much-for-we-learned-from-our-errors.html" target="_blank">So much for 'we learned from our errors' and 'we promise to be better'</a>" by Kassiane Sibley</li><li>"<a href="http://goo.gl/vYbdzn" target="_blank">If It's Not Accessible, Who Is It For?</a>" by S.D. Finch</li><li>"<a href="https://storify.com/Enceladosaurus/accessibility-at-conferences" target="_blank">Accessibility at Conferences</a>" by Jesse Shanahan&nbsp;</li></ul><br /><br />Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-63282055511380308812016-01-05T12:22:00.003-05:002016-01-05T17:26:13.286-05:00You want real change to stop gun violence?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://cdn1.theodysseyonline.com/files/2015/10/16/6358060431372031641348746746_gun%20control.JPG" /></div><br /><div><i>Content/TW: Liberal profanity (including many f-words), gun violence, institutions, police violence, racism, ableism.&nbsp;</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Photo: Hand-drawn cartoon of a hand holding a gun, and another person's hand putting the index finger down the barrel of the gun.</i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>You want real change to stop gun violence?&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div>Stop throwing people of color and psych disabled people under the fucking bus.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I received an email yesterday from President Obama's White House Office of Public Engagement outlining his new set of executive orders (to be announced in full later today, along with the parent of one of the children killed in the Sandy Hook elementary school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut) on stopping gun violence.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>The email notes the following orders (necessary context, and you're welcome, to everyone wondering what the orders say since they haven't been totally public yet as of time of posting):&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>[long quote begin]</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><br />Ensure States are providing records to the background check system, and work cooperatively with jurisdictions to improve reporting. &nbsp; Congress has prohibited specific categories of people from buying guns—from convicted felons to users of illegal drugs to individuals convicted of misdemeanor crimes of domestic violence.&nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;...&nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">The Administration is committed to improving care for Americans experiencing mental health issues. &nbsp;In the last seven years, our country has made extraordinary progress in expanding mental health coverage for millions of Americans. &nbsp;This includes the Affordable Care Act’s end to insurance company discrimination based on pre-existing conditions, required coverage of mental health and substance use disorder services in the individual and small group markets, and an expansion of mental health and substance use disorder parity policies, all of which are estimated to help more than 60 million Americans. &nbsp;About 13.5 million more Americans have gained Medicaid coverage since October 2013, significantly improving access to mental health care. &nbsp;And thanks to more than $100 million in funding from the Affordable Care Act, community health centers have expanded behavioral health services for nearly 900,000 people nationwide over the past two years. &nbsp;We must continue to remove the stigma around mental illness and its treatment—and make sure that these individuals and their families know they are not alone. &nbsp;While individuals with mental illness are more likely to be victims of violence than perpetrators, incidents of violence continue to highlight a crisis in America’s mental health system. &nbsp;In addition to helping people get the treatment they need, we must make sure we keep guns out of the hands of those who are prohibited by law from having them. &nbsp;Today, the Administration is announcing the following steps to help achieve these goals:</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><br />Dedicate significant new resources to increase access to mental health care. &nbsp;Despite our recent significant gains, less than half of children and adults with diagnosable mental health problems receive the treatment they need. &nbsp;To address this, the Administration is proposing a new $500 million investment to help engage individuals with serious mental illness in care, improve access to care by increasing service capacity and the behavioral health workforce, and ensure that behavioral health care systems work for everyone. &nbsp;This effort would increase access to mental health services to protect the health of children and communities, prevent suicide, and promote mental health as a top priority. &nbsp;&nbsp;</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">Include information from the Social Security Administration in the background check system about beneficiaries who are prohibited from possessing a firearm. &nbsp; Current law prohibits individuals from buying a gun if, because of a mental health issue, they are either a danger to themselves or others or are unable to manage their own affairs. &nbsp;The Social Security Administration (SSA) has indicated that it will begin the rulemaking process to ensure that appropriate information in its records is reported to NICS. &nbsp;The reporting that SSA, in consultation with the Department of Justice, is expected to require will cover appropriate records of the approximately 75,000 people each year who have a documented mental health issue, receive disability benefits, and are unable to manage those benefits because of their mental impairment, or who have been found by a state or federal court to be legally incompetent. &nbsp;The rulemaking will also provide a mechanism for people to seek relief from the federal prohibition on possessing a firearm for reasons related to mental health.<br /><br />Remove unnecessary legal barriers preventing States from reporting relevant information to the background check system. &nbsp;Although States generally report criminal history information to NICS, many continue to report little information about individuals who are prohibited by Federal law from possessing or receiving a gun for specific mental health reasons. &nbsp;Some State officials raised concerns about whether such reporting would be precluded by the Privacy Rule issued under the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996 (HIPAA). Today, the Department of Health and Human Services issued a final rule expressly permitting certain HIPAA covered entities to provide to the NICS limited demographic and other necessary information about these individuals.</blockquote><div><br /></div><div>[long quote end]</div><div><br /></div><div>Obama, you need to stop throwing psych disabled people into the sniper's crosshairs of political expediency. Your order urges the public not to add stigma to mental illness and people who have mental health related conditions or psych disabilities, yet its very substance directly contradicts this purported objective. Your order relies on stigma and fear around psychiatric disability, mental illness, madness, and neurodivergence by including this very section, let alone including it as part of your goal to keep guns "out of the wrong hands."&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm all for gun control in theory, but here's some cold, hard reality that you clearly need to swallow.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>(1) You can criminalize guns, but look how well that works with drugs. If someone really wants to get their hands on a gun, it won't matter whether they are legally able to obtain the gun or not; they will find a way to obtain the gun themself or through another person.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>(2) Your executive orders and virtually all policy proposals on the topic rely on background checks as the means for controlling gun purchases and ownership, regulating gun possession, and monitoring gun owners. As numerous other people have already discussed at length, background checks rely on arrest and conviction records, which mean that those who will be precluded from gun ownership (as you yourself already noted) are disproportionately Black and Brown people, since that is the demographic most likely to be impacted by the criminal (in)justice system. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>(3) Your executive order announcement here is waffling between emphasizing the importance of your mental health bullshit and apologetically trying to disclaim involvement by resorting to, "Well, we have to keep guns out of the hands of those legally prohibited from owning them by reason of mental illness." So are you doing it because you genuinely believe it's the right thing to do, based on your ableist, sanist prejudices against neurodivergent and psych disabled people, or are you doing it because the law so requires? And if the law so requires, why not consider that <strike>sometimes</strike>&nbsp;sorry, not sorry, <strike>most</strike>&nbsp;a ridiculously huge amount of the time, the law is fucking unjust and dependent on the same fucking systems of oppression and their underlying assumptions and values.</div><div><br /></div><div>(4) Your executive order apologetically mentions that people with mental illness are more likely to be victims than perpetrators, but then goes right on ahead blazing into its scapegoating, business as usual. Stop.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Some people with mental illness do violent things, including using guns in violent crimes. Plenty of people with absolutely no mental illness whatsoever also do violent things. Putting mental health into this conversation <u style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">AT ALL</u>&nbsp;is evidence of deeply rooted, ingrained, and thoroughly unexamined ableism. It is irrelevant.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>The relevant thing to be focusing on is actual violence and its actual causes. Not whatever scary scapegoat you want to pin it on so you can avoid critical discussions of the real problems in this country.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>(5) Your executive orders will require various federal agencies to ensure that states' can more easily share private health information about people with psych disabilities by creating specific exemptions to HIPAA.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>(For those who don't know what HIPAA is, it's the law that protects your private health information from the prying minds of anyone who randomly wants to know what STI's or STD's you have, when you've ever been prescribed psychiatric meds, etc. etc. etc. It's the law that makes sure your employers can't discriminate against you based on your health history by protecting your information. It's the law that for many people with psych disabilities, lived experience of mental health conditions, and others who have survived traumas, means that seeking any kind of services, supports, treatments, or therapies can become possible -- precisely because it protects against external judgment steeped in pervasive ableist stigma.)</div><div><br /></div><div>You can't have it both ways, wanting to improve mental health services and also weaken the HIPAA protections that can prevent many kinds of discrimination, abuse, and exploitation.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>(6) Do we need improvement in mental health care? As a disabled advocate with pretty significant public policy experience, especially at my tender age, abso-fucking-lutely yes. Our system for mental health care service models and delivery is seriously fucked up. And that's the most polite way I can put it. We one hundred percent need better services, better quality services, more accessible services, more multiculturally competent services, more affordable services. Enforcement of the mental health parity law. Strengthening of network adequacy, especially in lower income and rural areas. Significant, vast improvements in services and care available for queer and trans folk. Et cetera.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But <u style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">that conversation does not belong in a conversation about gun violence</u>. It is a separate conversation that deserves full time and attention, not to be inserted into this conversation as a placeholder for addressing actual underlying issues of widespread gun violence in this country.<br /><br />(7) You don't specify what kind of care or services you'll be funding, so, excuse me if I'm skeptical, but I have a hard time believing you mean anything other than coercive, involuntary treatment along the lines of Murphy's proposal.<br /><br />I keep hearing criminal justice reform advocates talk about how some people need treatment, not jail. Sounds great in theory, but institutions are just medical incarceration.<br /><br />No thank you to ableist confinement and paternalism in the name of public safety over bodily autonomy and dignity.<br /><br />If you want a conversation on mental health care, let's talk about disparities in access for rural people, for immigrants. For queer and trans people. For people of color. For other disabled people. Let's talk about the duplicitous nature of group homes with institutional environments. Let's talk about the insidious nature of guardianship -- "civil death." Let's talk about the severe funding shortage for peer services and supports.<br /><br />Where are those conversations? Please tell me and I'll happily join.</div><div><br /></div><div>(8) You want to stop gun violence? Demilitarize the fucking police, because it's the police that murder Black, Brown, Indigenous, queer, trans, and disabled people in droves. It's the police that implement policies like broken windows policing and stop and frisk. Where's your real talk on gun violence coming from the police who are in theory supposed to serve and protect? Who are they really protecting?&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Who will your background control really protect?&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>(9) &nbsp;Here are some of the real issues in this country: Unchecked (trans)misogyny. White supremacy. Male entitlement. Toxic masculinity. Quasi-property status of children and youth. The presumptions of caregiver benelovence and disabled incompetence.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a thought: maybe start addressing these problems, and see if you can stop some gun violence.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>You wanted a conversation on how to #StopGunViolence? Sit down, shut up, and start taking notes.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-4538096346133749272015-12-12T20:58:00.000-05:002016-01-02T03:15:26.285-05:00Why do I think I'm autistic . . . This was actually originally a question on a survey as part of a research study (which asked me why do I consider myself to be autistic, in addition to having once been handed an on-paper diagnosis, which yes is a class privilege to be able to get), but my answer ended up being so long-winded that I'm going to put it here, just in case it's helpful to anyone who might be out there questioning and wondering whether they might be autistic.<br /><br />(This is totally unscientific and unempirical, but based on anecdotal observations from conversations with hundreds/thousands of other autistic people -- both with formal diagnoses and without them, both speaking and nonspeaking, etc. -- it just seems that all of these characteristics are *more common* in autistic people than they are in nonautistic people, and that the more of these kinds of characteristics someone has, the more likely they are to be autistic. Obviously anyone who isn't autistic -- which includes neurodivergent people who aren't autistic -- could have any one or more of these characteristics too. And of course, there are characteristics of being autistic that seem to be really common in autistic people, especially as compared to nonautistic people, that I don't have.)<br /><br />Like many (but of course, not all) autistic people, I ...<br /><br />- Keep an erratic sleeping schedule, and am often nocturnal by both instinct and preference.<br /><br />- Absolutely suck at executive functioning, which involves planning tasks, prioritizing tasks, initiating tasks, following through on tasks, meeting deadlines, organizing complex multi-step tasks, etc.<br /><br />- Have very uneven skills academically, but present as conventionally "gifted." I functioned really, really well academically from K - 12, and then when I went to college, a lot of coping skills died. I developed some stuff, sure, but I know some stuff went straight out the window too, because huge changes, and also almost total lack of structure/scaffolding. ("Now you're an adult, and you must be totally independent, and if you can't do that, too bad f u.")<br /><br />- Have hypersensitivities in all my senses (to noises, to smells, to tastes/textures, to touch/tactile sensation, to sights), which create both (1) sensory-seeking opportunities (I still rub a silk sleeve over my face -- the very same one I've had since I was 3 and I'm now 22; also, tassels tassels tassels -- yes I did in fact get a picture of myself inside the White House rubbing a tassel there all over my face) and (2) sensory-averse reactions (I am physically hurt by a lot of fluorescent lights; also, touching me lightly -- not firmly -- hurts).<br /><br />- Tend to be more oblivious to surroundings/background information/implied knowledge. (This includes social knowledge -- everyone else picks up on updates in people's lives/doings much sooner than me; spatial knowledge -- I can't recognize the same location in the dark versus in the light and also won't realize that objects/buildings/things exist unless they're explicitly pointed out to me; etc.)<br /><br />- Frequently speak in circles, because I have extreme frustration when I believe the other person/people do not understand what I'm trying to communicate, so I attempt to rephrase (and can rephrase an infinite number of times, and go on for-fucking-ever with this unless stopped).<br /><br />- Take great pleasure out of intense fascination with particular topic areas in ways that non-autistic people often do not.<br /><br />- Relate to other people (and show that I care about them) specifically by seeking out gifts/activities/internet memes/other tangible or observable things that relate directly to their preferred interests or activities, but am often perceived as just creepy or weird by non-autistic people for doing this.<br /><br />- Absolutely hate crowds and crowded locations because they're overwhelming and drain me of energy to start, do, or finish things, or just to concentrate, or just to survive.<br /><br />- Occasionally lose the ability to produce oral speech even though I usually have the ability to use oral speech, especially when under extreme stress or exhaustion.<br /><br />- Stim, like by using my tongue around my mouth in specific ways, or touching specific kinds of textures, or spinning in circles for a long time, or playing with water forever, including in fountains attached to government buildings, which results in being yelled at by security. (I stim when I'm anxious, when I'm bored, when I'm upset, when I'm happy, or when I'm excited. Also when I'm trying to communicate to another autistic person that I exist and am also autistic.)<br /><br />- Tend to like certain types of structure and routine in ways that are not typical for non-autistic people. For example, whether playing with toy cars, Barbie or Bratz dolls, or Star Wars action figures, I would always line up all of the figures in specific orders/formations and three-dimensional spatial locations in my play area that almost never changed, which confused the hell out of all of my non-autistic friends/playmates. In another example, I'm also totally okay with eating literally *the exact same thing* for every meal for months on end, and this does not bother me.<br /><br />- Extremely detail-oriented. For example, I write novels and do collaborative writing style roleplaying, and in both, I typically develop in immense detail aspects of constructed languages, socio-economic-political systems, cultural norms/histories, etc., as well as populating worlds (both those based on the real world and those that are totally sci-fi or fantasy settings) with hundreds or thousands of characters thought out in depth.<br /><br />- Am highly attracted to and empathetic with animals (like cats and dogs) and fictional characters, which I feel are like real people and whom I care about in the same way I do as real people.<br /><br />- Tend to take an incredibly long time to develop close friendships with people, and am constantly afraid of losing any of the friends that I have, because many of my closest friends in the past aren't my friends anymore (often but not always because they decided to not be my friend because I wasn't cool).<br /><br />- Was severely bullied throughout school, both by other students and sometimes by teachers, for being an obvious weirdo. I'm usually perceived as out of touch, socially awkward, weird, abnormal, and just not with it when compared to a lot of my peers.<br /><br />- Won't shut up when I really care about something, and am often perceived as arrogant, stuck-up, a know-it-all, full of myself, showing off, etc. even though I'm just trying to share information that I think the other person will care about or benefit from having.<br /><br />- Don't really think in linguistic concepts/language. I think both visually and conceptually. So my thoughts happen in images (still pictures, moving videos, or four-dimensional fluid shapes/lines/fields/things-that-aren't-describable-but-I-probably-sound-like-I'm-under-the-influence-of-LSD-now) that represent concepts.<br /><br />- Hate group work. With the burning passion of ten hundred thousand flaming suns gone supernova.<br /><br />- Can be both hyposensitive (not that sensitive) or hypersensitive (so much sensitive) to pain. Like, I scream and cry when getting shots. But after having my wisdom teeth out, due to combination of apparent stoicism and serious sensory aversions to any pills ever and most liquid medications, didn't really take any pain meds once I went home.<br /><br />- Tend to be either really good intuitively at doing a thing, or really, really suck, and I keep sucking at it in the same pattern of sucking at it.<br /><br />- Think systematically or in patterns. See above. (Example: If I'm worried or anxious about something, I will repeatedly go over every possible outcome, from the best possible one to the worst most catastrophic one, and everything in between, in great detail as to how/why each could happen, and the likelihood of each outcome, but despite knowing rationally that the most catastrophic ones are usually not that likely, will still anxiously panic over the possibility they are true.)<br /><br />- Rely on scripts (entire encounters, types of situations, for behavior, or for what to say, etc.) for like 95% of my interactions involving other people, including other autistic people.<br /><br />- Really, really like the feeling of pressure against my body. I often sit with legs/ankles crossed so I feel the pressure, or with my hand between both knees (I've learned that people assume I'm sexually touching myself in public if it's any higher up my leg). I like to sit so that my legs/ankles/feet can press against the legs of chairs or tables. I like to fall asleep with my arms tucked under my torso. Weighted blankets are awesome.<br /><br />- Have some super awesome fine/gross motor skills, and some totally sucky fine/gross motor skills. For example, I have highly calligraphic scripted handwriting, and do black and white drawings in pen only (no pencil involved ever) with highly detailed cross-hatching. But then again, I've never reliably learned how to tie my shoes or do monkey bars or jump rope or hula hoop like most other kids I grew up around did.<br /><br />- See squiggly bright lines and dots of various constantly-shifting colors whenever I'm conscious, which includes as I'm falling asleep too. (I'm sighted, which means I'm neither blind nor low-vision -- not sure how/if blind or low-vision autistic people have these things.) Some people call them "the floaters."<br /><br />- Always see the world in static (like the kind of "noise" that makes photos not great quality). Someone asked about this on the Facebook, and yes, I have the thing where I always have thought I was seeing molecules or something everywhere, in all lighting and wakefulness/sleepiness conditions, because the whole world is comprised of these tiny dots that make up literally everything I perceive visually.<br /><br />- Have HIGHLY vivid, frequently narrative dreams, many of which I remember in incredibly detail. (Many of mine are also lucid.)<br /><br />- Am synesthetic, meaning I experience many kinds of sensory input as *other* kinds of sensory input. Like, listening to music or even someone just talking, produces colors and shapes and yay.<br /><br />- Will re-read or re-watch entire books or movies or tv shows -- or specific scenes in them -- that provoke deep, intense emotional reactions in me.<br /><br />- Am highly empathetic to the point of over-empathizing. I may not always be able to process cognitively what I'm experiencing (see point below), but I am overwhelmed by the emotional responses of people around me -- which includes things I read on the internet, because I'm experiencing them as the other person does. (Not in the way of, I know how it is to be them when I'm not them or don't have the same experiences, but in the way of, their anger settles in me, or their sadness settles in me, and I can't get rid of it.)<br /><br />- Have trouble identifying/naming and separating/distinguishing all of my emotions or even bodily sensations.<br /><br />- Am not antisocial. I'm an introvert, but I display a lot of outwardly extroverted-seeming traits, like talking to lots of people, going to events with lots of people, and having people over my place. Social interaction can be fun (or can suck massively, depending on who is involved and what they do to/around me), but it's draining. I need lots of extra time to recover. This is true even if the other people involved are also autistic. <br /><br />- Desire to have some amount of environmental control that it seems like nonautistics tend not to have (either in general, or as intensely). Like, I get really anxious if other people touch or move my belongings/possessions, even if they're people I know really well and trust in general.<br /><br />- Show that I trust others by opening up to them, emotionally and about my experiences.<br /><br />- Often feel marginal and like an outsider (not just because of various marginalized experiences/identities that I have) even when I theoretically should be able to belong to a particular group.<br /><br />- Typically have gravitated to be friends with people who were significantly older or significantly younger than me, and not my age-peers.<br /><br />- Tend to do activities the exact same way all the time (like how I make pasta sauce or mint hot chocolate) even when I learn a better/easier way to do them. This extends to what I order in restaurants. (I love trying new foods, actually, but if I know I have a favorite thing, why wouldn't I order my favorite thing? Why would I order a second or third favorite thing?)<br /><br />- Experience distinct auditory processing disability stuff. I hate conference calls maybe almost as much as ISIS hates the existence of everyone-who-isn't-ISIS. I will almost never understand your name the first time you tell it to me unless it's also on the business card you're handing me or the name tag stuck to your shirt / hanging from your neck or the placard in front of your face. You have to repeat it.<br /><br />- Can't recognize faces. (It's called prosopagnosia or faceblindness.) As a sighted person, yes, I do see your face. I am capable of seeing people next to each other and realizing they do not look identical, even if they present their gender very similarly, are close in age, have similarly sized/shaped bodies, and are from the same racial group. But I can't reliably tell people apart in sequence, or out of context from when/where/how I usually encounter them, or after a few days or weeks or months since regular contact. I can sometimes, to varying degrees of reliability, recognize people on other characteristics, like voice, manner of speaking, posture, body movement, other distinctive physical features, or hairstyle (including facial hair when someone has it), but not by face. I can also figure out if someone else knows me often by their body language (like prolonged eye contact, suddenly smiling, or referring/addressing me by name when I'm not wearing a nametag or ID), but I have no clue who they are and will *never* have the experience of feeling like I recognize someone but not remembering their name. Half the time I'm faking that I know who you are. Just tell me your name up front next time.<br /><br />- Have significant trouble in group settings including purely social, unstructured ones. I can never tell if it's my turn to talk, or if there's an opening where it's okay to jump in with a comment/question/story in the convo, and frequently, by the time I figure it out, it's too late and suddenly I'm interrupting someone and have just become an accidental asshole.<br /><br />- Collect random shit I don't actually need but am somehow convinced I will need later. Like receipts. Dating back to 2004. And fortunes from fortune cookies. And tags from clothes. Literally everything. All this totally useless stuff that it pains me to toss out because what if I need it one day. <br /><br />- Have vastly varying periods of total distractibility where absolutely nothing happens even things that really should (like eating food) and periods of doing ALL the things!!!!!!!!!!1eleventyone where way too many things somehow happen. I don't reliably have the same abilities, skills, or energy/capacity to do the same things from one point in time to another.<br /><br />- Can hyperfocus for hours at a time on ironing out the tiniest of details necessary to complete one activity/task, to the point where I forget that things like pissing/shitting/eating/drinking liquids are things that a body generally needs to do. For over 18 hours sometimes.<br /><br />- Hate tags. Yes, tags. They are horrible. Why do people insist on putting them on clothes? Anywhere? Ever? But seriously, especially the really large, stiff ones in some shirts right where the neck is.<br /><br />- Suffered for having my extremely thick, easily tangled hair (which used to be very long, especially as a kid), which meant I went through what both my partner and I call the Daily Torture Session. It was worse than just frustrating or annoying. It was actually painful and it sucked. And no one would believe me most of the time, because they assumed I was just exaggerating or being overly dramatic. But it's true.<br /><br />- Often begin to talk louder and louder, especially when I'm excited about something (which can include being excited about knowing about something), without realizing it, or being aware of exactly how loud others perceive me as.<br /><br />- Constantly grind my teeth or chew on my own tongue (to the side of my mouth). I'm not sure if it's a pressure-seeking thing, or another kind of sensory-seeking, or a specific kind of stimming, but it's been a thing my whole life, and was the reason I had to get a retainer when I was a kid. I know a lot of other autistic folks who bite or chew on their fingers, hands, or arms as well as or instead of doing the teeth grinding thing.<br /><br />- Have a very powerful and strong, intuitive sense of justice and fairness. It hurts when something seems wrong, when someone seems like they're being fucked over. I usually immediately relate to and identify with the underdog or the outsider.<br /><br />- Don't care much about certain types of reputation/outward perceptions of me (like, buck the system; think whatever you want to think; fly that freak flag high; I'm here and queer get used to it; I once showed up to a White House event in a t-shirt while everyone else was in Western Business Attire; etc.) but am also extremely anxious about what others think of me vis a vis my character, my integrity, whether I'm worth being/having around.<br /><br />I'm sure there are many more, but another thing I have is anxiety around lists because I'm always wondering if I left something off the list (and usually do/did). (Bonus! If you keep coming to this page enough, you might notice I keep adding to this list, for the reason stated earlier in this paragraph!)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>No really, I wasn't kidding about the White House tassel thing:&nbsp;</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jQXKzpHJbbs/VmzP2smSamI/AAAAAAAADSQ/PrjVfcGckbo/s640/Lydia%2BWhite%2BHouse%2Btassel.jpg" width="480" /></imageanchor></div><br />From December 2013, inside the White House. Clearly the thing to do is to find the nearest large fluffy tassel and rub your face all over it in stim-heaven.<br /><br />My original description:<br /><br />The tassels on the drapes were SO STIMMY YAY. (Pretty sure this is not the normal way to act in the White House. OH WELL.)<br /><br />A total stranger took this picture because I apparently was hilarious? So I got them to email it to me, for your viewing pleasure.<br /><br />Photo by Nicole Shambourger.<br /><br />Image: Me dressed in a dark pantsuit and patterned, embroidered red scarf, very happy, sticking my face into a giant tassel decoration on drapes in the Green Room of the White House.<br /><br />***<br /><br />If you are wondering or questioning whether you or someone you know might be autistic after reading this post, here are some resources that could be helpful:<br /><br /><ul><li><a href="http://p-3a-s-life-resources.tumblr.com/post/115347374289/atypical-autism-traits" target="_blank">Atypical Autism Traits</a> (gender neutral version)</li><li><a href="http://www.realsocialskills.org/" target="_blank">Real Social Skills</a></li><li><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Think-Might-Autistic-Diagnosis-Self-Discovery/dp/0989597113" target="_blank">I Think I Might Be Autistic: A Guide to Autism Spectrum Disorder Diagnosis and Self-Discovery for Adults</a></i> by Cynthia Kim</li><li><a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/neurowonderful" target="_blank">Ask An Autistic</a> by Amythest Schaber</li><li><a href="http://archive.autistics.org/library/whoisautistic.html" target="_blank">Who Can Call Themselves Autistic?</a>&nbsp;</li><li>Autism Women's Network's&nbsp;<a href="http://autismwomensnetwork.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/Autistic_Women.pdf" target="_blank">Autistic Women Welcome Packet</a>&nbsp;</li><li>Autistic Self Advocacy Network's <a href="http://autisticadvocacy.org/2014/02/welcome-to-the-autistic-community/" target="_blank">Welcome to the Autistic Community Handbook</a></li></ul>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-89455389694517984982015-12-03T00:52:00.001-05:002016-06-30T15:47:18.761-04:00too dry to cry<i>Content/TW: Gun violence, mass shooting, detailed discussion of ableism and racism (especially against Black and Brown people) surrounding such events, mention of sexual violence, occasional swearing.&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Edit (30 June 2016): I have removed a small section of this post that overall was not relevant to its main points of discussion and did not need to be included.</i><br /><br />I haven't written nearly as frequently for Autistic Hoya in the last two years or so as I did for the first few years that this blog existed. It seems that the few times I interrupt my long absences here now are most often for devastating news -- for writing flowing straight from my pain, and sometimes my anger, and often quite a bit of both.<br /><br />Today, there is too much. Too much.<br /><br />Today, the top news story in the U.S. is the hours-long mass shooting at the embattled Inland Regional Center in San Bernardino, California. The Inland Regional Center is responsible for providing and coordinating community-based services to over 31,000 people with developmental disabilities (likely including many autistic people) in San Bernardino and Riverside Counties east of Los Angeles. At last count, 14 people are estimated to be killed and 17 additional injured. The shooting went on for hours. So far, we know that the shooting happened inside one of the buildings, at a county-wide event honoring healthcare professionals. We don't know who specifically the attackers targeted because the victims haven't been publicly identified yet. Police have counted three suspects -- two men and a woman.<br /><br />I learned about the shooting while it was still happening. I was in class.<br /><br />TASH is hosting its annual conference in Portland, Oregon right now. A friend told me the conference is reeling.<br /><br />My email inbox has exploded with messages on disability lists reacting in real-time to the attack.<br /><br />Every time I glance at my phone, I see more news updates scrolling across the mobile browser, telling me police have killed two suspects, are searching an apartment for possible explosives, won't release identities of the dead until next of kin are notified, are speculating about motive.<br /><br />My Facebook news feed is equal parts horror and disgust and fear and sorrow and anger and brokenness and fragility from this community, these many fractured communities, where I have learned to live and love and suffer and often, to cry.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><br />I was going to use "Anti-ableist ways to respond to today's ongoing tragedy in San Bernardino" as the title for this blog post. But it sounds too artificial. Too prepared. Too hollow.<br /><br />I wanted to write this because I can't stay silent. I can't. Not when those struggling alongside us, those attempting to practice allyship, those not directly impacted by ableism want to know what to say or do. How to react.<br /><br />We have a saying in culturally autistic spaces -- "I need help reacting to something."<br /><br />I do. It's <a href="http://www.autistichoya.com/2012/12/nameless-things-dismantle.html" target="_blank">nameless things dismantled</a> all over again.<br /><br />Minneapolis. Chicago. Beirut. Yola. Kano. Baghdad. Paris. Colorado Springs.<br /><br />Now San Bernardino.<br /><br />I can't. I just can't.<br /><br />The trouble is, it's less that I can't react than that I'm crashing from trying to react to too many things all at once. Made it home from school in the rain. One load of laundry done. Dinner for four made, eaten. Dishes washed, put away. Old exam questions pondered, discussed with fellow classmates. Emails sent. All while forcing myself not to feel too much. Not to think. Just to act. Follow a script. A routine. Forget I am real. Forget I inhabit this taut and trembling flesh.<br /><br />This is empathy overload. This is emotional shutdown. This is autism.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><br />There was a news article earlier today quoting someone from the FBI describing the attackers as "Americans, not terrorists." Somehow totally missing the complete irony of just how full of terrorists the U.S. always has been and continues to be, in both state sanctioned and individual forms.<br /><br />Our country is steeped in violence. For the vast majority of us in the U.S. who are not Indigenous or Native, we live on stolen, colonized, occupied land.<br /><br />In our Property class in law school today, a student objected to the concept of adverse possession (when someone can gain ownership of someone else's land/real estate simply by occupying it for a long time without the owner's permission), saying, "But this is America!" And a number of us responded that, well, nothing could be more American than taking someone else's land. After all, that's how this country was built.<br /><br />Not too far from our school, there was a rally today at Ruggles Station against police terrorism targeting low-income Black and Brown communities, as we have learned of the police murders of more unarmed Black men -- Jamar Clark in Minneapolis last month and Laquan McDonald in Chicago last year, whose death was videotaped and covered up by not only the police department but its commissioner and the city's mayor.<br /><br />President Barack Obama described himself as very good at killing people, as the number of Brown people killed by remotely operated drones has risen higher under his administration than under the George W. Bush one.<br /><br />Transwomen of color face routine violence in the streets from strangers and police alike. Women who dare criticize men or even acknowledge misogyny risk terrifying, brutal retaliation. My psych disabled and mad, neurodivergent friends live with constant terror of possible incarceration in the name of treatment and public safety. While my light skin and educated words lend me some measure of protection, my Black and Brown friends risk their lives upon encountering a police officer for so much as existing.<br /><br />But of course, the term "terrorism" is steeped in a particular racism that attaches it only to Brown people and those racialized as Muslim.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>It's everywhere on Twitter, Facebook, anywhere you care to check. Ordinary folks expressing shock, horror, outrage that anyone might target disabled people for violence. Surprised by it. Wondering how, how could anyone go after <i>the disabled</i>?<br /><br />My friend Maddy Ruvolo says, "So many people talking about how they can't believe shooters would target disabled people like they're not complicit in the violence disabled people face every single day. If you're surprised by violence against disabled people, you haven't been paying attention."<br /><br />This narrative is superficially sympathetic, but it's plied with the pity endemic to pathologizing ways of thinking about disability. It depends on understanding disabled people through pity/charity frameworks, on infantilizing us as eternally untouched by reality (negativity, fear, violence, malice) on the presumption of incompetence.<br /><br />Expecting disabled people to be angels, innocents, somehow specially exempt from reality -- similarly to the misogyny in the idea that hitting <i>women </i>is somehow especially wrong, but hitting <i>men </i>is normal, if still wrong. Thinking about us as objects, not subjects, not agents of our own destinies. Treating disabled people as some specially innocent population, as readily available charity/community service projects here for abled people to feel good about themselves for being <i>nice </i>to us -- for not calling us retarded, for not refusing to let us in the room, for not staring. Relegating us to a constant position as objects for the edification of abled people.<br /><br />(Sign up for Best Buddies. Be friends with a person with a developmental disability once a week and occasionally at group events with all the other people with developmental disabilities. Give yourself a pat on the back. Grow some warm feelings. Make the person with the disability smile and believe you are really their friend. Never or rarely include them in your other outings with your regular friends. Never confide in them your trust. Never think of them as simply another person you know. Consider yourself a do-gooder. Don't wory; the disabled person won't notice.)<br /><br />Wondering who could hate disabled people.<br /><br />Believe me, plenty of people do. Hate is nothing new. And no, pity and hate are absolutely not mutually exclusive. Sometimes they depend on each other.<br /><br />Over half of people killed by police are disabled. I think of Stephon Watts, Steven Eugene Washington, Natasha McKenna, John Williams, Mohamed Usman Chaudhry, Kajieme Powell, Freddie Gray, all disabled <i>and </i>Black or Brown.<br /><br />One study found that 83% of women with developmental disabilities will be raped at least once in their lifetimes, and that more than half that number will be raped at least ten times before the age of eighteen alone. That almost 40% of men with developmental disabilities will be raped at least once in this lifetime.<br /><br />What terrifies me is that these numbers are probably conservative estimates.<br /><br />This is ableism.<br /><b><br /></b><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><b><br /></b>The Los Angeles Times announced that police named Syed Farook as one of the shooting suspects.<br /><br />Of course the first person named a suspect in the shooting has a name racialized as Brown and Muslim -- and when the articles begin to appear, <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/suspect-involved-calif-massacre-identified-article-1.2453471" target="_blank">his neighbor discusses how he became more outwardly religious</a>&nbsp;(or was perceived that way), predicated on the presumption that of course, this is relevant. Of course it matters that he grew a beard. That he began to wear non-Western clothing. We are expected to read these details and assume the rest of the narrative -- young Muslim becomes a terrorist by becoming more Muslim.<br /><br />(They say the second shooter is Tashfeen Malik, now giving the public two identifiable Muslim names.)<br /><br />How soon will the FBI's earlier description of the shooter as a U.S. citizen be forgotten? How soon will news coverage shift to obsessive nitpicking over Syed's religious identification and practices, speculating about connections to Daesh (ISIS) or Al Qaeda or some other such group? How soon will the rhetoric shift from the ever-familiar refrain of "we need to fix the mental health system" to "this was possibly terrorism-related?"<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><b><br /></b>Congressman Tim Murphy's pet project, House Bill 2646, is moving rapidly through Congress. We know it as the Murphy Bill. You might know it as the Helping Families in Mental Health Crisis Act.<br /><br />He began pushing this bill right after the Sandy Hook shooting in December 2013.<br /><br />It's the kind of measure that sounds superficially nice and potentially worthwhile. He cloaks it in the rhetoric of public safety, greater good, better mental health services. The lie that these mass shootings are the product of mental illness.<br /><br />Here's what the bill does: Pumps funds into involuntary, coercive treatment through both inpatient and outpatient commitment. Incentivizes states to increase use of involuntary, coercive treatment. Cut funds from community-based programs, services, and supports. Slash funds for the national network of protection and advocacy systems that work to promote the rights of people with psych disabilities -- a network created in large part because of horrifying revelations about the all-pervasive abuses in institutional settings (the psych ward, the mental hospital, the long-term residential institution). Weaken doctor/patient confidentiality protections for people with psych disabilities.<br /><br />Its supporters will tell insist that mental health reform is necessary to stop gun violence.<br /><br />We know we need better mental health services. We know the existing system is riddled with failures, is a frequent source of (re)traumatization for so many of us.<br /><br />But these issues are so separate from gun violence.<br /><br />Stop pathologizing violence. Violence is not a mental illness, but psych disabled people, like all disabled people, live with the constant possibility of violence and abuse in this profoundly ableist world.<br /><br />They will tell you that jails and prisons are now the nation's largest mental health care providers. That people with mental illness don't belong in jail or prison, but instead in specialized facilities. That they need treatment instead.<br /><br />Don't believe the lie that new asylums, new mental institutions are anything other than a different --and often, far less regulated -- form of incarceration than the penal institution.<br /><br />Disrupt the pattern of disability hierarchy. The Inland Regional Center's clients with developmental disabilities undoubtedly include many, many people who also have psych disabilities. We will find these narratives -- that (1) people with developmental disabilities are innocent angels incapable of understanding violence, and (2) people with psych disabilities are unstable, potential murderers waiting to happen. We will find these narratives everywhere.<br /><br />This is ableism.<br /><br />(And often, in the wake of gun violence by white people, it's also the racist effect of white supremacy. No matter whether the murderer writes a terrifying manifesto against women or repeatedly espouses white supremacist causes before targeting Black people at prayer, white supremacy insists on exempting whiteness from violence by scapegoating the specter of madness instead.)<br /><br />These lines have well-worn grooves in our newspapers and frequently-visited websites. They provide a familiar refrain, one that rips and breaks and tears at me.<br /><br />Here, where those dead, injured, and left surviving, left reeling may well be disabled like me, I can't begin to respond. I don't understand this pain. But I know it. It's written all over me.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><br />We have to hold space for each other.<br /><b><br /></b>Make space for us to relax. To heal. To dream. To mourn. To cry. To scream. To not have words. To feel empty. To process this jumbled fucking mess. To recover. To find new scars.<br /><br />Ask us what we need.<br /><br />Remind us that we are valuable, that we matter, that we deserve to exist, and more than that, that we deserve to exist in a world where we genuinely care for and about each other. Where our wobbly, sick, lopsided, drooling, asymmetrical, neurodivergent, mad, crip bodies are welcomed and loved and honored.<br /><br />Join us in our struggles.<br /><br />Morning, with its promise of familiar routine, waits for us.<br /><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KjUVRJCM6v0/Vl_DvuuS7BI/AAAAAAAADQQ/Wf2Id1IvvTc/s640/Ki%2527tay%2BDavidson%2B-%2BWhy%2BI%2BQuit%2BPhilanthropy.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">"I want to believe in peace. I want to believe we can unlearn violence &amp; affirm our interdependency. I dream of a community of lovers, who navigate pain, joy, laughter and grief together, collectively &amp; with care; experiencing endless beauty. I think I am dreaming of a modern day heaven, or perhaps I am dreaming of the good we were meant to be."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ki'tay Davidson, Why I Quit Philanthropy</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">#Justice2050&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><i>Image Description (courtesy TL/Talila Lewis): Dark rectangle with the above quote and a photo of Ki'tay during a presentation to disabled youth. Ki’tay is smiling with an open mouth and snapping in celebration of a great comment by an audience member while facilitating a Disability History, Culture, and Pride workshop for youth with disabilities during the summer of 2014. Ki'tay is holding a microphone in his left hand and snapping with his right. He is wearing a black shirt, orange pants and a black hat.</i><br /><br />Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-77952738975100803372015-11-16T19:15:00.001-05:002015-11-16T19:15:49.096-05:00In Solidarity with Black Students at Georgetown University<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3OBSswtncmU/Vkpw3eAq5LI/AAAAAAAADN8/MariXWlrPSE/s640/Black%2BStudents%2Bof%2BGeorgetown%252C%2BYour%2BAllies%2BStand%2BWith%2BYou.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><i>Photo: Brick outside wall of the Intercultural Center (ICC) with chalk lettering that reads, "Black Students of GU, Your Allies Stand With You."</i><br /><br />I did not write the text of the letter below the asterisks (and do not want to claim credit for the words -- it's circulating among many conscious and conscientious alumni), but I wholeheartedly endorse it as a non-Black alumn of color only recently removed from the Hilltop. I experience daily the damaging effects of white supremacy and structural racism as an East Asian person, but for precisely the same reason, I am also part of the many Asian American communities so frequently used in service of white supremacy. Asians like me continue to be offered the illusions of respectability and equality in the white supremacist system so long as we disavow and dissociate from Black, Brown, and Indigenous people. Racial justice demands solidarity -- recognizing that we must support and work alongside the Black, Brown, and Indigenous led movements fighting against the most overt and widespread state violence.<br /><br />To any disability people reading this post who think this is a distraction, or irrelevant, or somehow losing a focus on disability -- stop. Stop with the single-issue politics. Disabled people of color -- and disabled Black people in particular -- don't have the luxury of pretending that we can engage with only one issue, one category of identity or experience. Our experiences with ableism are inevitably and inextricably intertwined with our experiences with racism. Racial justice IS disability justice, and disabled people of color must demand disability solidarity with Black-led movements.<br /><br />To Georgetown University: Step up your game. Listen to your Black students -- my friends, my former classmates, my colleagues. &nbsp;These are the moments that will mark our university's history for the next generation to come as either the institution that chose to make hollow, conciliatory gestures or the institution willing to embark on the infinitely harder path of self-examination and long-term, systemic change centered around the members of the university community most impacted by white supremacy.<br /><i><br /></i><i>***</i><br /><br />Dear President DeGioia,<br /><br />Georgetown University students of color, and our allies, have been watching closely this week as events unfold on college campuses around the country, from the University of Missouri, to Yale, to our own beloved Hilltop. Fueled by the momentum of the Black Lives Matter movement on the streets of Ferguson, Baltimore, New York City, and more, Black students are demanding action to ensure that systemic racism is addressed in all its forms, including within institutions of higher learning. This is undoubtedly a critical time for racial justice, and well past time for the Georgetown administration to take action to support its Black students.<br /><br />We are deeply moved by this powerful Black-led student movement. Black students, and other students of color, deserve to feel safe at their place of learning. Moreover, Black students should not have to choose between their education and their physical, mental, and emotional safety. As the recent situation at the University of Missouri has demonstrated, Black students continue to bear this burden, often in the absence of support from their universities.<br /><br />We urge you to support the Black-led student mobilization on our campus, and to take action ensuring that the demands of these students are heard, honored, and heeded. This is an opportunity to renew Georgetown’s commitment to cura personalis, and we hope you will seize it.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br /><br />Lydia Brown (COL 2015)<br /><br />***<br /><br />This is the text of the demands letter from the #BuiltOn272 movement ongoing now (the image at link below is not text-accessible):<br /><br />(<a href="https://twitter.com/_ClassyCan/status/665231523185082368" target="_blank">Letter visible at this Tweet.</a>)<br /><br />The broadcast from the president's office that was sent out earlier in the year ended with the statement; "This is what we do best as a university community: we come together to confront difficult events, learn from and with one another, and rely on the collective wisdom and resources of our extraordinary community to determine how we may best move forward toward justice and truth." The best way to move forward towards justice and truth is to take the demands set forth in this letter and implement them in an expedited and transparent manner.<br /><br />1. Changing the name of Mulledy Hall, the Meditation Center, and McSherry Hall to reflect, center and honor the 272 enslaved Africans who were sold in the transaction and the countless people enslaved to the Jesuits prior to the transaction. We recommend that this can be completed by renaming Mulledy as "Building 272" and the remaining halls after any of the persons who were sold.<br /><br />2. Plaques placed on all known unmarked graves on Georgetown University's campus honoring the legacy of enslaved people who contributed greatly to this campus.<br /><br />3. Implement an Annual Program that honors the legacy of the enslaved people that continues to educate the Georgetown Community about the role and legacy slavery played in the creation and advancement of this University.<br /><br />4. Revision of Official Georgetown Tours to include information about the sites and the history of the sites.<br /><br />5. Endowment for the recruitment of Black identifying professors equivalent to the Net Present Value of the profit generated from the transaction in which 272 people were sold into bondage.<br /><br />6. Mandatory training for all professors on how to engage and address issues of identity and diversity in their classrooms.Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-77741268683949900962015-11-07T16:34:00.001-05:002015-11-07T17:39:37.575-05:00#TheAbleistScript (The Original Tweets)<i>Content/TW: Institutionalization, sexual violence, gaslighting, other discussions of violence.</i><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Graphic that says #TheAbleistScript" height="320" src="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CTPamEJWEAAaL2H.png:large" width="640" /></div><br />On Friday, I was fed up and pissed off at the everyday, casual ableism endemic to everything from pop culture and fandom to exchanges with total strangers and things that have happened to my friends and me. So I started tweeting under #TheAbleistScript -- both verbatim things people have said and paraphrases of what they're essentially saying. Then a massive shitton of fellow disabled folks picked up the hashtag and began joining in, which is awesome, but also meant I lost a lot of my own tweets (because Twitter can be really hard to navigate for me, for cognitive access reasons). So I've put up the original tweets that I put out here.<br /><br /><b><a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/theableistscript?f=tweets&amp;vertical=default&amp;src=hash" target="_blank">Follow the entire hashtag and some truly fabulous contributions here</a>!</b><br /><br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You can talk so obviously you experience absolutely no disability-related difficulties ever under any conditions." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662685027642294272">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"If a disabled person could present at a conference everyone would tune them out because they're not like THEIR child." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662685200527290369">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">After speaking about ableism/public policy: "Your story is SO inspiring. You must have overcome so much to be here." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662685385227661312">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Stop being so hypersensitive and looking for things to be offended by. Most people want to help people in your position!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662685647631683584">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"I understand that you're frustrated, but you really need to stop being so bitter and angry. No one will listen to you." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662685812363014145">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"We don't have enough inpatient beds for the mentally ill! Instead, we send them to jail!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/InstitutionsAreIncarceration?src=hash">#InstitutionsAreIncarceration</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662686046036082688">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"It's great you're so successful! But don't you want severely disabled kids to have the same chance? They DO need a cure." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662686343923900416">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"If we have too many people with disabilities in the room, they'll take over this entire conference [about disability]." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662686454267715584">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"But why CAN'T you just find a different doctor?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662686632747905024">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Your gender confusion must be a symptom of your autism and inability to understand social structures." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662686737534222336">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"If you have one kind of disability you have every other kind of disability too right?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662686969089155072">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"LET. ME. TALK. VEEERY. SLOOOOWLY. SO. YOU. CAN. UNDERSTAND. MEEEE." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662687063570034688">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">To the one disabled person in the room: "That's a nice idea. Now let's focus on the real issues." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662687160471060480">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"But everyone worthy of a decent salary must be able to do 40 hours in the office every day, right?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662687290838425600">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Stop going on and on about your problems. You're so attention-seeking." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662687377907974148">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"It wasn't misogyny or toxic masculinity. It was mental illness. We have to stop mentally ill people from getting guns." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662687504714330113">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Police officers who murder young Black people are part of white supremacy. White supremacy is a mental illness!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662687650202152960">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Why weren't you supervising that 30-yr-old disabled adult who went outside to smoke?! It freaked me out!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662687906562224128">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"That's so cute that this person with Down syndrome is in love. It's like kindergarteners who think they're in love!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662688073046732800">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"It is obviously impossible for someone with such severe disabilities to consent to sex. So it must always be rape." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662688219847348224">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"But why would we give THOSE people sex ed? They won't have sex. Anyone who has sex with them is a pedophile or predator." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662688520390254592">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"If you ask for accommodations in the workplace, it's a sign of weakness. Let's start looking for ways to get rid of you." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662688839526432768">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You must be afraid of ever having children. It would be so terrible if your kid had the same thing as you!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662688938713333760">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You are so brave. I would kill myself if I ended up like you." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662688992614289408">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You had a child? Don't you think that was incredibly selfish and irresponsible? What if the kid turned out like you?!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662689096595349505">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"I'm not talking about YOU. I'm talking about THOSE people. People who aren't in touch with reality or can't communicate." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662689320801714176">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"But there are just some kids that really don't belong in the classroom especially where they could influence other kids." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662689404142657538">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You need to learn how to act normal or no one will ever like you, you'll never have friends, and you'll die alone." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662689606886912000">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You're dating? Oh! Does your partner also ... um ... have the same disability?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662689708829450240">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You can't talk about it. You have to hide it or no one will ever respect you or treat you as a peer again." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662690000643993600">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Women need legal protections for bodily autonomy. Otherwise we can't abort fetuses with defects and disabilities!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662690320312868864">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Sheltered workshops give people with severe disabilities something meaningful to do, a reason to wake up in the morning." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662690474591969280">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"We have to put limits on the ADA! Otherwise all these people are going to threaten to sue us for made-up violations!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662690683204059137">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Prisons are not the answer to mental illness. They need specialized treatment facilities." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/InstitutionsAreIncarceration?src=hash">#InstitutionsAreIncarceration</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662690875718377472">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You use the internet. I would give anything for my child to be able to. You have no right to talk about disability." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662691112528830465">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Planning a disability conference: "Let's talk to parents of kids who suffer from this condition and some researchers!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662691306511196160">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Progressive org plans rally; no ASL interpreter is there. "Stop trying to take attention away from the issues!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662691516201238528">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Fund suicide prevention for queer/trans youth!" "Legalize physician assisted suicide for ppl facing possible disability!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662692111482003456">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Paternalism is wrong. Except for the senile elderly, children, and the mentally disabled, who must not be competent." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662692273231147008">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">To disabled people: "You are valuable in society!" *if you can contribute to capitalism and increase a company's profit <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662692566983450625">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">My autistic partner has public meltdown. "Can you get her to be quiet and maybe wait over there?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a> *they were misgendered</div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662693102726094848">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"But I can talk to YOU. You're not like THEM. I almost forget that you're disabled. So I can be openly ableist with you." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662693252764667904">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"We have to be sure you're not just trying to game the system. Come back with a detailed doctor's note." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662693373950693376">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You're religious? That must be really reassuring, to know there is a bigger plan for why you have to suffer from that." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662693473787748352">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Let me pray for you! LORD GOD, please heal this person! Deliver them from this affliction! Make them whole!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662693578414649344">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You're in college. You're obviously smart, so you don't need any extra help." You mean accommodations for equal access? <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662693726360350720">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">To person in wheelchair: "So, wait, is it even possible for people like you to have sex? How could you do it?!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662694035140800513">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"I never know how to act around people like you. I'm worried that anything could be taken as offense when none is meant." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662694203110109186">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"I can't understand your speech. Is there someone who can interpret?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662694298572431360">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Referring to people in their 30's through 60's: "The kids go to a program during the day where they do arts and crafts." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662694700231614468">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You're probably just calling yourself asexual because of low self esteem about how your body looks." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662704680653488128">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"It's awful the parent killed the kid. But put yourself in their shoes! Think of the stress! How much burden the kid was." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662705262046928896">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">We know who the show's villain is by the deformity or mental illness. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662710064734740480">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Very Special Episode Syndrome: New disabled character appears to teach main cast a lesson about kindness, disappears. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662758443120525312">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">To person with life-threatening epileptic seizures: "I don't care if my flashing lights could kill you." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662758572837748736">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">When every disabled character has to have SUPERPOWERS or MAGIC to be on the show. (AKA savants or "hidden" genuises.) <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662758977768448004">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">When I mention I work in disability advocacy: "Oh, so do you have a relative or know someone ... ?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662759122526412800">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">When independence is equated with moral character, and interdependence is discounted as co-dependence and weakness. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662759314508144640">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">After every shooting: "Family says shooter struggled with mental illness." "We need better mental health services!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662759738296442880">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"THIS BOY'S KINDNESS TO CLASSMATE WITH AUTISM WILL BRING YOU TO TEARS. CLICK TO WATCH THIS HEART-WARMING VIDEO." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662760620807311360">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You mean you're a person WITH autism. Don't put your disability first." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662760728672264193">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Children with disabilities are treated so horribly in Korea/China/Japan. We do such a wonderful job here in the U.S." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662760934427987968">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"The couple tried repeatedly to adopt a child, but the orphanage kept trying to pass off children with defects onto them." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662761115001163777">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"No one will want to be around you if you complain all the time. No one likes miserable people." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662761212275523585">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"This person with mental illness is such a wonderful role model! Look how responsible they are; they take their meds." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662761309637844992">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"THIS MOM IS ON A BRAVE MISSION TO SPEAK FOR CHILDREN WHO HAVE NO VOICES OF THEIR OWN. READ HER INSPIRING STORY." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662761733421944832">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"How can you be so cruel and callous? She loved her son. She just snapped from the stress of having a special needs kid." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662761883502530560">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"She kept being raped, eventually had a kid. But don't worry; we solved the problem! Now she's sterilized." (Buck v. Bell) <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662762162688040960">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Save this African child from a lifetime of stigma. Donate now to give this child a real smile!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/WhiteSaviorNotNeeded?src=hash">#WhiteSaviorNotNeeded</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662762753225003008">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Wow, are you lazy or what! You're so young; you don't need to be taking the elevator if you're only going one floor." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662762960457244672">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Wait, you're ever NOT in a hospital or doctor's office?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662763153172885505">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Why don't you see a doctor for that?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662763249423794176">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You should definitely try this one amazing trick my great uncle used -- it cured him!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662763334454943744">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Being trans is NOT a mental illness. There is nothing wrong with US." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/DisabledANDTrans?src=hash">#DisabledANDTrans</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/NotAContradiction?src=hash">#NotAContradiction</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662763583336538112">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Welcome parents, siblings, and self-advocates." Because we only get to talk about ourselves but they talk about us all. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662763970575638529">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You use the internet. Therefore, you are very high-functioning and have no idea what it's like to be disabled at all." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662764483786444800">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You don't want a cure... so you obviously oppose any funds/research for better services and supports." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662764615919656960">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Let me keep staring forever at this blind person using a phone screenreader!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662765865818038273">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">[sees little person in public] [picks up little person] [has no problem with this] <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662765946218618880">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">To someone in wheelchair: "People like you can't drive." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662766028934520832">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"What exactly is wrong with you? Were you exposed to toxic chemicals in utero?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662766155707363329">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You must be emotionally damaged because you were in an orphanage." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662766212724736000">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Inmates find meaning by training service dogs to help disabled." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/WhenAccessDependsOnPrisonLabor?src=hash">#WhenAccessDependsOnPrisonLabor</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/InterlockingOppressions?src=hash">#InterlockingOppressions</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662767085513216000">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"From 1 to 10, how much pain are you in?" ... "Okay, now tell the truth. I can't write scripts because you want drugs." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662767272499507200">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Wow, what happened to you? You used to be so strong and beautiful." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662767444558274560">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You can't let them make choices, because they'll just choose the easy way out. You have to choose for them." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662767557682798592">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"I don't care if it hurts your kid. You have to keep pushing your kid, because that's the only way to recovery." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662767634111455232">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Able-bodied/Neurotypical actor wins Emmy/Golden Globe/Tony for heart-wrenching portrayal of disabled person." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662768233028706304">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You're younger than me. Bend down and get it." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662768367409868801">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Person sent to treatment facility instead of prison. "Wow, he got off easy!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/InstitutionsAreIncarceration?src=hash">#InstitutionsAreIncarceration</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662768864757960705">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">.<a href="https://twitter.com/Enceladosaurus">@Enceladosaurus</a> "I must be exaggerating. I will wait until someone else confirms what I am thinking." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662769448647065602">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Immediately after disclosing: "You're unstable and difficult. We just can't have you in this school/workplace anymore." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662770263961051136">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Deemed high-functioning: You can't speak for disabled people (cause you're not)! Deemed low-functioning: You can't think! <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662770494614192128">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"You can't judge him for being creepy/misogynistic/stalker. He might be on the autism spectrum and not know any better." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662771038342782977">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">I told a professor I'm autistic. He said, "Oh, I knew you had a behavioral issue of some kind." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662771418518659072">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Suzanne Warren clearly says she doesn't like being called Crazy Eyes. Almost entire fandom always calls her that. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/OITNB?src=hash">#OITNB</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662771730600083456">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Asked for auditory processing accommodations. "If you have that, why would you even bother trying to learn a language?" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662772114391474176">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">[sees sighted deaf person signing] "Oh I know! We have just the right thing!" [hands them Braille menu] <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662773018385620992">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"These third-world countries are awful to disabled people. They could really learn from the U.S.!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/WhiteSaviorNotNeeded?src=hash">#WhiteSaviorNotNeeded</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662773566400831489">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"She spent all her Saturdays as a buddy for a local special needs kid. What an incredible heart she has!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662773882475192320">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Design a future -- a better future -- where the human race will be free of defects and disorders!" <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662774314387824640">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">Said to survivors who experienced violence directly: "Trigger warnings coddle people and let them hide from reality." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662778223319580672">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">"Your rape allegations aren't credible. You're mentally ill/take psychiatric meds, so you aren't in touch with reality." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662778711154946048">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> <br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><div dir="ltr" lang="en">When you disclose food texture aversions: "Stop being such a picky eater." <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/TheAbleistScript?src=hash">#TheAbleistScript</a></div>— Lydia Brown (@autistichoya) <a href="https://twitter.com/autistichoya/status/662779034728665088">November 6, 2015</a></blockquote><br /><b><a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/theableistscript?f=tweets&amp;vertical=default&amp;src=hash" target="_blank">Follow the entire hashtag and some truly fabulous contributions here</a>!</b><br /><br /><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script> Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-22959606375833378752015-10-13T13:11:00.000-04:002015-10-13T13:11:28.330-04:00Court Hearing on JRC - October 26!<i>Content/TW: Fairly descriptive discussion of torture and abuse of people with disabilities using electric shock in an institution.</i><br /><i><br /></i><i><br /></i><br /><div style="text-align: center;">There is a court hearing about the Judge Rotenberg Center (JRC) scheduled to begin on Monday, October 26 in the Bristol County Probate &amp; Family Court in Taunton, Massachusetts. Arguments are expected to continue for around a month. If you are able to attend part or all of the hearing, which is open to the public, please do so! We need advocates in the courtroom!&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(This post is an explanation of why this is important, what the hearing is actually about, and for the uninitiated, what the JRC is. It starts with some background about the JRC, then gives the legal context.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NDPIDWr9pKU/Vh0snfOCswI/AAAAAAAADIQ/w2-IZafRwtA/s640/January%2B2013%2Bprotest%2Bof%2BJRC%2Boutside%2BFDA%2Bin%2BMaryland.jpg" width="640" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo: Disability and youth rights advocates protesting aversive electric shock "treatment" outside the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in Silver Spring, Maryland in January 2013. Hand-drawn signs have slogans "No compromise on torture," "people not experiments," "Ban the GED" with a list of minor infractions shocks are used to punish, "stop the shocks," "disability rights are human rights," and "torture not treatment."&nbsp;From left to right: Diane Engster, Lydia Brown, Shain M. Neumeier, Kathleen N. O'Neal, and Patrick T. Ayers. Photo by Taylor C. Hall, T.C. Hall Media.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><u>Background</u></b></div><i><br /></i>The Judge Rotenberg Center was originally founded as the Behavior Research Institute. It didn't start shocking people (as it is now infamous for doing) until 1988, but since its beginning in 1971, founder Matthew Israel instituted a regime of pain to coerce behavioral modification for the children, youth, and adults with intellectual, developmental, and psych disabilities committed to his "care." Food deprivation. Prolonged restraint. Seclusion -- which is ultimately a form of solitary confinement in the name of "treatment." Forced inhalation of ammonia. Sensory assault with the notorious white noise-blasting helmet. Slaps. Pinches designed to maximize pain by digging nails into muscle. Since 1971, six people receiving "treatment" at BRI/JRC have died in their care -- Robert Cooper (d. 1980), Danny Aswad (d. 1981), Vincent Milletich (d. 1985), Silverio Gonzalez (d. 1998), Linda Cornelison (d. 1990), and Abigail Gibson (d. 1997).<br /><br />Brandon Sanchez was the first resident to be subjected to electric shock. The device was called the SIBIS -- self-injurious behavior inhibiting system. Although staff at BRI/JRC have long known that darkened, cool, low-stimulation environments help Brandon Sanchez self-regulate and decompress, they began to treat his extreme self-harm by shocking him under the belief that association of unwanted behavior with painful stimuli would decrease the unwanted behavior. (In other words, it's like applying dog training tactics to humans, or at least humans deemed sub-human.) On one day, he received over 5,000 shocks from the SIBIS in a single day. After that, Matthew Israel asked the SIBIS manufacturer to build a stronger device. They refused.<br /><br />Matthew Israel invented his own device, the graduated electronic decelerator (GED), which emitted a stronger current and shock than the SIBIS. The GED works by strapping electrodes on a person's arms, torso, and legs, which are activated when someone presses a button on a remote control. Over the past couple decades, the GED has gone through several iterations, each more powerful and painful than before. The present model in use, the GED-4, is designed to be more powerful and painful than a police taser.<br /><br />Theoretically, the "therapy" is used to reduce or eliminate dangerous or aggressive behavior -- like someone picking at their eyes and causing a vision disability, or someone banging their head against a wall and causing a brain injury, or someone physically attacking other people. In reality, the aversive electric shocks are given for behavior ranging from closing eyes while walking in the hallway to trying to hold a staff person's hand, or from getting out of seat without permission to using swear words, or simply for non-compliance.<br /><br />In April 2012, a medical malpractice lawsuit brought by the family of Andre McCollins went to trial before a jury, where video footage of the shocks was played in public for the first time (<b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAj9W0ntUMI">photosensitive epilepsy warning -- video flickers / also graphic footage of torture at this link</a></b>). Ten years before, in 2002, Andre McCollins, a black autistic teenager with other cognitive and psych disabilities, had been shocked 31 times in 7 hours while restrained face-down in four-point restraints. The long shock session stemmed from a brief verbal interaction with a staff person who told him to take off his jacket, and he dared to say, "No." The shocks are as much for "non-compliance" as they are for anything else. <br /><br />Since 1971, dedicated advocates including titans like Nancy Weiss, Fredda Brown, and&nbsp;Polyxane S. Cobb have fought to close the JRC and end their abusive practices. Survivors like Jennifer Msumba and Ian Cook testified in front of the U.S. Food and Drug Administration. Disability rights organizations across the country have repeatedly condemned the JRC, along with the current and immediately former U.N. Special Rapporteurs on Torture. But legislation has never made it through the Massachusetts State House. Congress has never passed any measure that would ban aversives and dangerous restraints and seclusion. The U.S. Department of Justice civil rights investigation has produced no fruitful results. The FDA has never issued a decision after hosting a public hearing about the possibility of banning electric shock aversives.<br /><br />And Massachusetts' regulatory agencies (Department of Developmental Services -- formerly Department of Mental Retardation, Office of Children and Families, etc.) have been almost totally unable to do anything about the JRC because of the Massachusetts courts.<br /><br />(This explanation continues below the pictures.)<br /><br /><i>Further reading:</i><br /><br /><ul><li><a href="http://jrcabuse.tumblr.com/">Jennifer Msumba, a black autistic woman who survived seven years at the JRC, blogs about her experiences</a>.</li><li><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIbpzxsvCJk&amp;feature=youtu.be">Video of my testimony before the Massachusetts legislature about bill that would ban electric shock aversives.</a></li><li><a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2014/07/22/its-illegal-to-torture-prisoners-and-animals-but-not-disabled-people/">Opinion piece I wrote in the Washington Post about the JRC's shock "treatment."</a></li></ul><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="402" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3YM-insoroM/Vh0snTsqSGI/AAAAAAAADII/laQSqq0B4DI/s640/Joe%2BAndrade%2Bchecks%2Bshock%2Bstrap%2Bon%2BAndrew%2BGoldberg%2Bat%2BJRC%2B-%2BCharles%2BKrupa%2B13-aug-2014.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo [top]: Judge Rotenberg Center employee Joe Andrade adjusting the strap with shock electrodes on &nbsp;Andrew Goldberg's ankle. (Andrew Goldberg was named as a resident with developmental disabilities in the Concord Monitor.) Photo by Charles Krupa, 2014.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo [bottom]: A Judge Rotenberg Center employee supervising a young student, who looks afraid, at a computer station. The employee's belt has at least four GED remote control activators hanging from it, each with a student's picture. Photo by Larry Sultan, 2007.&nbsp;</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="422" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jLZZAeX3Md8/Vh0sncv41DI/AAAAAAAADIM/knURQHxEbnw/s640/JRC%2Bstaffer%2B-%2BLarry%2BSultan%2B2007.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><i><br /></i><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><u>Legal Context</u></b></div><br />In 1986, the Massachusetts Office of Children and Families tried to yank BRI's license to operate while issuing emergency orders essentially telling BRI to get its act together. In response, BRI sued the state government, accusing it of acting in bad faith and abusing its power to regulate by targeting just this one institution, and thereby violating the "rights" of students and parents for them to receive "treatment" at the BRI.<br /><br />The case settled with a consent decree in 1987, which means that the court where the lawsuit was filed (Bristol County Probate and Family Court, as mentioned above) still has control of the case (as opposed to it being considered totally closed at the base court level). The consent decree was supposed to last for one year. It allowed BRI to keep operating as usual, but with one change -- if BRI wanted to subject anyone to invasive aversive treatments, it had to go to court and ask a judge to allow them to add the aversive treatments to the person's individual treatment plan. These special hearings are called "substituted judgment" proceedings, where the judge makes a decision about treatment based on what they think a disabled person would decide if they were "competent." (It's an incredibly ableist legal construct, but that's a topic for a whole other post.) In theory, those substituted judgment proceedings are supposed to be adversarial, meaning that the outcome could go either way -- maybe shock is added to the treatment plan, maybe not. In reality, since the institution of the consent decree, the judges in Bristol County Probate and Family Court have basically rubber stamped every BRI/JRC request to add electric shock to someone's treatment plan.<br /><br />The consent decree was indefinitely extended, instead of ending in one year, and is still in force.<br /><br />(BRI changed its name to Judge Rotenberg Center to honor the judge who oversaw the consent decree, once he died and it no longer looked totally weird to name the place after him.)<br /><div><br /></div>In the mid-1990's, the Department of Mental Retardation (now Department of Developmental Services) denied JRC's request for certification to use certain aversives, including the electric shock. So JRC went to court, and DMR was held in contempt. The commissioner was forced to resign. DMR was placed into "receivership," with an outside person appointed by the court to take over everything DMR did involving the JRC -- for ten years (1996 - 2006).<br /><br />On 14 February 2013, the Massachusetts Attorney General's office filed a motion to vacate the 1987 consent decree -- if granted, the motion means that everything in the consent decree now becomes null and void, and the Bristol County Probate and Family Court will no longer have control of the case. The court also has the option of allowing the motion in part, but not in whole. Overall, this means that there is decent possibility that JRC could lose the protection it has enjoyed for almost three decades from the courts.<br /><br />The hearing scheduled to begin on October 26 is an evidentiary hearing on the motion. The state attorneys will present evidence in support of their motion to vacate, probably by arguing that the consent decree is irrelevant both a) in regard to how the state's agencies regulate JRC, and b) what treatments are considered acceptable for people with intellectual, developmental, and psych disabilities. JRC's attorneys will of course argue the opposite. (Ugh, them.)<br /><br />So if you live anywhere near Taunton or can get there, consider going to the hearing!<br /><div><br /></div>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-62290739976131927642015-09-25T22:13:00.000-04:002015-09-25T22:13:59.220-04:00Renewed Call for Submissions: Anthology by Autistic People of Color <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="374" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2d7xOYpGxz8/VgX9VZFaT5I/AAAAAAAADGk/iy6gnKPjzbE/s640/Lydia%2Breading.jpg" width="640" /></imageanchor></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Photo:&nbsp;</i></span><i>Lydia Brown reading a section of Frederick Douglass' speech "What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?" at Boston's annual communal reading in July 2015. Photo by Pamela J. Coveney.</i></span></div></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">To our friends, our comrades in the struggle, our supporters, our beautiful community of autistic and other neurodivergent, sick, and disabled folks,&nbsp;</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Last summer, we reached out to you about an ambitious new anthology to gather and center the voices of autistic people of color for the first time in a print collection celebrating our authenticity, power, and struggles. (Our working anthology title is&nbsp;</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>All the Weight of Our Dreams:</i><i>&nbsp;On Living Racialized Autism</i>.)</span></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">A year later, we have collected several dozen submissions, and are about to go into the first round of editing.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">We're calling on you for your support in getting the word out about submissions! &nbsp;</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">If you or someone you know identifies as both autistic and a person of color -- especially if you identify as Black or Indigenous (or both) -- we invite you to submit your writing in any style or genre and on any topic for the anthology. (You count as autistic whether you are self-identified or medically diagnosed, and you count as a person of color if you don't consider yourself white.)</span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">We welcome nonfiction, advocacy pieces, personal essay, memoir, short fiction, poetry, and artwork submissions. (If you submit any artwork, you must also submit a text-only caption/description along with your art.) We invite pieces that highlight the intersection of autism and race, but will also happily consider pieces that do not explicitly focus on this intersection.</span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Check out&nbsp;<a href="http://www.google.com/url?q=http%3A%2F%2Fautismwomensnetwork.org%2Fautism-race-anthology%2F&amp;sa=D&amp;sntz=1&amp;usg=AFQjCNEAa4MfGTuHyxflgWMze3HOnaMTTg" rel="noreferrer" style="color: #0000cc;" target="_blank">our details and guidelines about submissions</a>, and send as many pieces as you like to Lydia Brown at&nbsp;<a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/h/fj7tpuwqde98/?&amp;cs=wh&amp;v=b&amp;to=lydia@autistichoya.com" rel="noreferrer" style="color: #0000cc;" target="_blank">lydia@autistichoya.com</a>.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">(You can publish under any name you want for any reason, and you don't have to tell us those reasons.)</span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">We are especially interested in submissions from autistic people of color who live outside the United States or who are otherwise multiply marginalized. Autistic people of color of any age can submit work.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">The deadline for this second round of submissions is 15 November 2015.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Please share this information across your all of your networks!&nbsp;</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">In solidarity,</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Lydia Brown *&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Elesia Ashkenazy *&nbsp;</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-size: large;">Morénike Giwa-Onaiwu</span></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-size: large;">Project Team</span></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">*********</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Here is some slightly updated information from the original call for submissions:&nbsp;</span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white;"><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">WHAT IS THIS PROJECT?</b></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A collection of things written by autistic people of color talking about their lives, experiences, ideas, work, or other stories. The project will become a book available in different formats. Lydia Brown is the lead editor for the anthology, which will be published through the Autism Women’s Network.</span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">WHO CAN BE PART OF THE PROJECT?</b></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyone who self-identifies as&nbsp;</span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1. Autistic&nbsp;</span></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(with or without a formal diagnosis, includes PDD-NOS and Asperger's, and perhaps NLD/NVLD)</span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">2. Person of color, racialized, or non-white</span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Specifically, you might consider yourself one or more of the following:</span></div><ul style="direction: ltr;"><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Transethnic, transracial, or transnational adoptee of color</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mixed race, biracial, or multiracial</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Migrant</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Indigenous, Native, Aboriginal, or First Peoples</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Black, Caribbean, African, or African&nbsp;</span></div></li><li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Jewish, non-white</span></li><li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Hapa</span></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">East Asian, Southeast Asian, or Pacific Islander</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">South Asian, Desi, Central Asian, or Middle Eastern</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Brown</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Latin@, Hispanic, or Latin American</span></div></li></ul><div>You can be *any age* and live in *any country.*&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">WHAT CAN I SUBMIT?</b></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Anything that you write or have already written. Your submission can be short or long, prose or poetry, formal or informal, academic or personal. Some possible formats include personal essays, creative non-fiction, poetry, blog posts, speeches, and academic writing. You may also submit more than one thing.&nbsp;</span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some suggested topics (but you don't have to choose from this list):</span></div><ul style="direction: ltr;"><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Living at the intersection of disability and race</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cultural and community spaces for disabled people of color</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Passing as white or neurotypical</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Conceptualizing disability in non-white communities</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Intersectional social justice for disabled people of color</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Police brutality and profiling of disabled people of color, and state violence</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Intimacy, kinship, chosen family, romance, and sexuality</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Education</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Employment</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Housing</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Disability services</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Healthcare</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Activism and advocacy</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Further marginalized experiences (i.e., also being queer, migrant, trans*, poor, multiple-disabled, etc.)</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Representation and visibility</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Voice, silencing, erasure</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Socialization, communication</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Interdependence, healing, trauma</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Violence and abuse</span></div></li><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Resilience, power, reclamation, and solidarity</span></div></li></ul><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If you want more specific guidelines or concrete rules about submissions, contact Lydia Brown at&nbsp;<a href="mailto:lydia@autistichoya.com" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">lydia@autistichoya.com</span></a>.&nbsp;</span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">* Note: If it was published somewhere else, you need to have the legal right to submit it here.&nbsp;</span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">CAN I USE A PSEUDONYM OR ALIAS?</b></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If we choose your submission, we will use whatever name you want to appear. You can also submit one or more pieces that you would like to use your usual name on, and one or more pieces that you would like to use a different name on.</span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">HOW DO I SUBMIT WRITING?</b></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Email your writing to Lydia Brown at&nbsp;<a href="mailto:lydia@autistichoya.com" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">lydia@autistichoya.com</span></a>. Submissions can be attachments or in the email.&nbsp;</span></div></div>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-338581633491322703.post-23332204600215053262015-07-13T00:35:00.004-04:002015-07-13T00:35:50.439-04:00How Not to Plan Disability Conferences<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">How Not to Plan Disability Conferences</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><i>(or, how to be an ableist asswipe while planning a disability conference)</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Form a planning committee without any actually disabled people on it. You’re parents/researchers/professors/professionals. You know what you’re doing, and you can do it without letting those pesky little personal biases get in the way.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Alternatively, form a planning committee with your one token disabled person, so you can honestly say that, well, there was a person with a disability in the room. You have to remember all those overly-sensitive people with disabilities who’ll start hyperventilating about “inclusion” if you don’t do the politically correct thing. Bonus points if you get a token disabled person who already believes you are the Experts God Put On Earth on disability.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">3.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Produce an initial list of speakers/presenters without any actually disabled people on it. Don’t worry, you already know who all of the experts are on the conference themes/topics/strands. It just so happens that none of them are disabled. But hey, it’s the loving (non-disabled) family members, the dedicated (non-disabled) researchers and professionals, the prominent (non-disabled) professors who’ve done so much work for so many years to improve the lives of people with disabilities. They should be grateful you care so much.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">4.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Ignore the list of disabled people with relevant expertise on the conference’s themes/topics/strands that the token disabled person provides. You don’t know most of those people, and even if the token disabled person does, they must not be very important or accomplished because you would have heard of them if they really were. Besides, you’ve already pretty much decided who the speakers will be. You just have to make the token disabled person feel like someone listened to their opinion before you proceed.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">5.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Insist that none of the disabled people suggested should be presenters because “They’re not like my child/client/student!” (otherwise known as “They’re high-functioning!”) After all, if someone is capable of presenting at a conference, they must obviously have very mild disabilities—who knows, maybe they’re even so close to normal no one would ever consider them really disabled.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">6.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Make sure you mention the one or two disabled people on the list who you actually know. Discredit their qualifications to speak on the conference themes/topics/strands.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">7.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Relegate disabled speakers to the “inspirational personal story” presentation. You should ignore any of their interest or ability to speak about public policy, best practices, recent research developments, advocacy strategies, theory, etc.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">8.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You can also consider having disabled people co-present alongside non-disabled experts. You know, to provide a personal anecdote as a way of legitimizing the non-disabled main presenter’s expertise.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">9.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Constantly remind everyone, especially the token disabled person, that you have a very limited budget, and can’t afford to bring in any speakers from outside the local area where the conference is happening. Then insist on bringing in one of the non-disabled presenters who lives so many states away it’s definitely a long-distance trip.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">10.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Dismiss one of the disabled speaker suggestions because you had to pay them a lot of money the last time you asked them to speak. Obviously any other disabled person asking for money is clearly asking for an unreasonable and impossible amount. Besides, it’s not like they need that much money. Don’t they have families to mooch off of and SSDI to collect or something?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">11.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Create a list of target audiences for your conference that doesn’t even include people with disabilities as a target audience. Reluctantly add them in later under “families.” Some of those more high-functioning people with disabilities might show up. And of course, some families will have to bring their lower-functioning relatives with them, but it’s not like they’d be listening or anything.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">12.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Remember to keep telling your token disabled person that they are very high-functioning and don’t know what it’s like to have severe disabilities. Emphasize this especially whenever the token disabled person tries to get the rest of the committee to bring in actually disabled speakers. Don’t forget—anyone the token disabled person suggests must also be very high-functioning if they could theoretically present at a conference.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">13.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Repeatedly tell the token disabled person that they’re not listening to what anyone else is saying. It doesn’t matter that they’ve barely been given any time to speak and have mostly been ignored. The fact that they keep harping about more speakers with disabilities (eye roll) is just more evidence that they’re. not. listening. to. you.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">14.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you have to include disabled speakers/presenters, make sure your token disabled person at least gets the comfort of a consolation prize. (See #7 and #8.) Don’t worry. It’s for the best.<br /><br />15. If you post information about your conference online, make sure to only list the name of the non-disabled main presenters for any presentation where you have so kindly thought to include one or more disabled speakers to provide their "personal perspective" as a self-narrating zoo exhibit for you. This makes total sense, of course, since the disabled speakers aren't presenting the main ideas or concepts or research. They're just there to illustrate your fantastic non-disabled expert's points.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">16.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Remember. You’re being perfectly reasonable. Any possible complaints are unfounded accusations riddled with personal bias, irrational thinking, and emotionally volatile lack of perspective. You have done everything you possibly could. At this point, if you have to just go ahead and make your final decisions without the token disabled person on board with it, you just have to do it. They’re just the token, in the end. It’s not like they’re important or anything, and it’s definitely not like their opinion was actually going to change the outcome anyway.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>--<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><imageanchor style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WQigu6nsTcQ/VaM_z33qIZI/AAAAAAAACSU/-n55iW05ZSo/s400/RAGE.png" width="400" /></imageanchor></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a red rageface sketch. Why? Because THIS SHIT FILLS ME WITH RAGE WHEN IT HAPPENS. Which is often.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />--<br /><br />Afterword:<br /><br />Seriously, don't do any of these things. If you or someone you know is doing one of those things, stop!<br /><br />Instead:<br /><br />1. If you realize that everyone invited so far is not disabled, or everyone on your list of possible speakers is not disabled, ask some actually disabled people -- not just one -- who they think should be invited to the conference. If you're asking disabled people who are *in touch with* disability activism or advocacy or anything disability-related, we definitely know people with disabilities you could invite.<br /><br />2. It's fine to have parameters by necessity -- for example, you have a small budget so you can only invite speakers who live nearby, or you need someone to be able to talk about specific types of issues -- but don't use these parameters to exclude disabled speakers. Again, if you're asking disabled people who are in touch with the movement, we either know disabled people within your parameters or we know people who will.<br /><br />3. Don't make exceptions to your financial/compensation/geographic parameters for one or more non-disabled speakers while denying the disabled speakers a) an honorarium, b) travel expenses for out-of-state, c) travel expenses for local travel, d) lodging expenses/arrangements, e) per diem costs, f) any other arrangements that you're paying for. If you catch someone doing this, ask why you are prioritizing a non-disabled person (no matter how awesome they or their work are) over a disabled person.<br /><br />4. Rethink who is on the planning committee. Don't invite people as tokens -- actually talk to disabled people who you know and ask them to take a substantive leadership role in the planning of your conference. More than one. More than two. And yes, expect some of us to decline because of time, energy, spoons, or other limitations on our ability to engage. So ask several of us. When there are disabled people, and not just one or a handful (proportionate to the total number of people in the room), involved in the planning, a lot of these issues will be avoided.<br /><br />5. Change the wording on any publicity materials to mention that YES, disabled people are an expected constituency. People with disabilities should always be expected in the audience of anything related to disability, even and especially if the material is geared more toward "parents" or "professionals." Why? Because a.) some of us are part of those groups also, and b.) we have the most valuable possible perspective to give to non-disabled parents, professionals, or what-have-you, since we live every day the things you will be talking about.<br /><br />6. Another good way to acknowledge and affirm -- and thereby make your conference infinitely more welcoming and inclusive -- that disabled people may want to be present at your thing is to include easily findable information about access and accommodations.<br /><br />Be up front if you won't have ASL interpretation. It's shitty if you don't but can, less shitty but still in the shitty category if you don't because you can't, but it's always even more shitty if you're not even able to be up front about it and leave d/Deaf and hard-of-hearing potential attendees wondering and forced to ask (which many won't do because they're used to being told no, which sucks for obvious reasons). If on the off-chance you actually WILL have ASL interpretation, please plaster that information everywhere. I mean everywhere.<br /><br />In the same part of your site or other materials on access/accommodations, make sure to describe whether there is adequate wheelchair/mobility access. Establish a low-fragrance policy. Establish a no flash photography -- and no photography of any kind without consent of those in the picture -- policy. Mention if there will be a break room where attendees can take a break from the stimulation. (Seriously, that's not just autistics; it's also people with anxiety, people with physical disabilities or chronic pain, people with depression, etc. etc. etc.) These are all little things that you can do for minimal cost, and that advertising and talking about publicly can send a strong message that you're expecting and trying to be as welcoming as possible for disabled people.<br /><br />* (On the minimal cost note, yes, ASL interpretation or CART captioning are expensive, and because interpreters and captioners need to eat too. That's why it is a shitty situation if you can't have ASL interpretation or CART captioning, but because of our current capitalistic system, if you don't have enough money, it's just not a thing that can happen.)<br /><br />7. When you ask disabled people to speak at your conference, be up front that they are welcome to share personal stories or their individual perspective based on their specific life experiences/childhood/etc. if they want to do so, either as the main presentation (if it's open topic and presenter gets to decide) or as backdrop/details, but that you are NOT EXPECTING a self-narrating zoo exhibit / in-person inspiration porn / a token self-advocate to make the non-disabled people feel good about themselves. In fact, if you're inviting disabled people to talk about anything beyond merely themselves (whether or not they also include information and stories about themselves in the presentation), like public policy, research, activism, or advocacy, you should say that in the invite. Like, "Hey, we know you've done a lot of work on employment issues affecting people with disabilities. Like, you've won awards, worked for orgs, and spent years advocating for better employment supports and shit. Since you're such a fantastic advocate and your work is super important, it would be awesome if you came to speak at our conference in [some place] on [some date] about employment and disability issues!"<br /><br />There are more professional ways to convey this sentiment than this wording, but hey, if it suits you, feel free to snag it verbatim from here.<br /><div><br />8. Listen to what disabled people have to say. Seriously. It's not that hard, but people make it out to be. If someone disabled in your planning group can talk or go to college or has a job or can help plan a conference, don't use that fact to say, "Oh well you know, you're very high-functioning/mild/etc., so you really don't get it." That's shitty. It's ableist. It's invalidating, dismissive, and demeaning. It's also incredibly arrogant. Does someone who went to college know what it's like to not be able to go to college? Well, obviously, no. But someone who has ANY kind of disability, no matter how specifically they are impacted or what specific skills they have or lack, is going to have a better grasp of what it's like to be disabled in ways that have really significant impact on life than you as a non-disabled person. (<a href="http://goo.gl/ZB5Pfz">Here's an excellent blog post about precisely this topic written by someone who does have more impairments than me in a lot of ways, so go read theirs</a>.)<br /><br />9. Speak up if someone else in your planning group is saying or doing these shitty things. If they're saying them in front of the whole group, and you know they're wrong, and you have the ability to speak out, then do. That's called practicing good allyship. Because if disabled people aren't in the room to begin with, then all we can hope for is someone who's in there to say something. Or if we're in the room, but we're being constantly shouted down or talked over or talked down to in those patronizing voices, it's actually really nice for a change to have someone who will be taken more seriously (i.e. someone not disabled) speak up for us and say, "Yeah, actually, [disabled person here] is right. This is not okay."<br /><br />10. If someone is objecting to someone presenting because "well they're too high-functioning" and you're supposed to be talking about people who "could never present at a conference," think about these two things: a) a lot of non-disabled, neurotypical people can't present at conferences, because it's just not in their skillset. b) if you're thinking there are people whose disabilities would mean they couldn't comfortably be in a conference space, please start questioning whether i) you mean their behavior (like, humming, or pacing, or flapping, or rocking, or sitting on the floor, or something) would make you uncomfortable and therefore be inconvenient to the non-disabled people in the room or ii) you can rethink how you are designing the whole conference (length and number of breaks, expectations for behavior/seating arrangement during sessions, lighting -- natural or artificial, availability of food/drinks, etc.) so the space would actually be more inclusive for more types of people.<br /><br />11. Don't conflate disabled people into the families category. A lot of us ARE also parents of disabled kids, or siblings of other disabled people, or spouses or partners of other disabled people, etc. etc., but if by "families" you typically mean "non-disabled family members of someone with a disability," you don't get to lump us in as a subcategory. List us separately. It's totally okay (and I encourage you) to acknowledge that parents/spouses/siblings/etc. can also be disabled themselves, but the category of "disabled people/PWD's" needs to exist on its own as well. This should be common sense if the conference is about disability, but apparently it isn't.<br /><br />12. If you're offering an honorarium to non-disabled speakers, offer the same honorarium to disabled speakers. Doing otherwise shows that you value the labor of non-disabled people, but don't believe that the labor of disabled people is worth paying us for. That's shitty.<br /><br />13. Don't have the disabled person/people in the planning group only be responsible for planning a single in-the-back or niche session where disabled people will be presenting. That's just as tokenizing and othering as not having any disabled speakers at all. Strive to include disabled speakers throughout your event, not just at one small part of it.<br /><br />14. And include the disabled people in the planning group in all parts of the planning, with equal responsibility and decision-making power as everyone else, for all other parts of the conference. If they're not speaking up, explicitly ask/invite them to share their thoughts, and give extra time for them to respond. Give the option of responding by phone or over email or some other medium that's not in-person if the in-person meetings aren't eliciting many comments from them. Create multiple modes of access and participation.<br /><br />Soooo that afterword turned into almost an entirely separate list on its own. I would apologize for that, but I'm not actually sorry. Pass this one around, because these kinds of conferences, symposia, workshops, training sessions, etc. are planned all the time and way more of the time than not, there are no disabled people involved in planning, there are no disabled speakers, or if there are disabled speakers, they're expected to fulfill the role of self-narrating zoo exhibit / inspiration porn and absolutely nothing else whatsoever. Since a lot of you reading this will at some point have the opportunity to push back against these harmful practices, it's especially important that you do so. We don't want tokenism. We want real representation.&nbsp;</div>Lydia X. Z. Brownhttps://plus.google.com/104587631744863272315noreply@blogger.com21